


Eden's playground

by ESH_es



Series: Two sides of paradise [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crime Fighting, Developing Relationship, Eden - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Heaven, Human AU, Organized Crime, Paradise, References to Drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:48:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 93,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25257178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ESH_es/pseuds/ESH_es
Summary: After leaving LA, Chloe Decker finds herself transferred to New York - a single mother balancing work and barely present free time  and a devilishly handsome Brit thrown into the mix.Getting closer to know Lucifer - who would name oneself after the devil? - gets her emotions whirling, while she additionally has a mysterious overdose and persistent exes to deal with.And how does her newly found companion, her friend (maybe even more?) tie in with all of it?
Relationships: Chloe Decker & Ella Lopez, Chloe Decker & Mazikeen, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Mazikeen & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Trixie Espinoza & Lucifer Morningstar
Series: Two sides of paradise [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1829833
Comments: 306
Kudos: 349





	1. New beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there peeps!
> 
> I am sooo excited to share this little monster with you XD I have been working on this project for the past few months - thank you Corona lockdown! - and now that the first chapter is edited it is finally allowed to leave the nest and to be read by you!
> 
> If you want to know specifics about me updating (I'll try and get this done as quickly as possible as I have a sequel coming up too -- whoopsie, that happened XD) you can follow me on instagram under @esh_es_writes! :3
> 
> I wrote the whole thing and planned the sequel based on season 1 to 4 so even if the trailer for season 5 is out (I catatonically sat on the stairs for an hour, staring into nothing after watching it XD) and the 5th season will probably launch before my sequel does, the characters are written and oriented on the first 4 seasons XD
> 
> But nevertheless, enjoy! I would love comments and constructive criticism! (if anyone from New York is reading this: I am not from New York. I am not even from the US. If there are inaccuracies, I am sorry. This is built on research and google maps XD)
> 
> For those of you who do not want to read explicit sexual content: I will put three asterixes (***) at the beginning and ending of a smut scene so you can just skip over it. Anything remotely important happening in said scene will be covered in the end notes of the chapter! 
> 
> I have a playlist for [ "Two sides of paradise" ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7xmj9bc0NXeI2K2AhR5EqJ?si=oMTTfTg8S9eC4qBUjHBcbQ) now!
> 
> lots of love 
> 
> ESH
> 
> To say it again! (and I will be saying it again and again) Black lives matter! BIPOC matter! Support BIPOC! Check your privilege!

Her fingers brushed over the lush grass beneath her. The fabric of her jeans rubbed against her thighs, soft and thick. Her gaze hung on her little daughter, playing at the pond, drenching her shoes in its water for them to land in front of the heater when they came home. The corners of her mouth tugged up at the thought, torn between amusement and resignation. Her chapped lips burned as if in bitter afterthought as she breathed in the air, faint edge of petrol clinging to it.

When LA had been too much, New York was drowning her. Drowning her with towering wave fronts of concrete and skyscrapers, long nights on the force that she tried her damned hardest to avoid but had to trade in for free afternoons that she could spend with Trixie. Submerged her in bills that had her thinking about taking up another credit to pay off, but had her gritting her teeth through, because she really couldn’t add to her pile of dept. But if New York meant escape, she would choose it over struggling to breathe for the sting of betrayal in her chest every time.

Seeing her daughter play with friends she’d just made meant everything, for she didn’t need to think about her mom sinking against the door in her bedroom at night, tears streaming across her cheeks from loneliness and shame about her naiveté. She was Chloe Decker and she would not yield. She could do it. Without her child’s father, without the familiarity of the half assed support of her mother, without the suspicious glances and degrading sneers of her colleagues. She swallowed down her hurt and let her eyes linger on the soft petals, white and blushing pink brush strokes against the blooming green. The red ball that the kids passed onto each other like a game of hot potato rushed straight past her Monkey’s fingers and her kid’s exasperate expression made her grin, she had seen it way too often on herself.

She headed after the ball, high on its tails, weaving between strangers’ legs. The sight had her shoulders tensing and her mouth falling open in a futile warning. Otherwise quick and agile the thin body of her kid collided with a man’s legs before she could let out a single tone. It had her on her feet faster than she’d thought and she headed towards them.

“Bloody hell!”, escaped the guy, clad in dark slacks, crisp shirt and fitting suit jacket. Shit. She could only pray that he wasn’t some rich, entitled Brit that had his nose up so high she could see the hair in his nostrils. The coffee in his hand was splattered onto his shirt, dripping onto the ground, while he held his arms up high, frozen in shock, annoyance written all over his face. 

“Watch your step hell spawn!”

He _was_ some rich, entitled Brit with his nose in the stratosphere. She really hoped Trixie wouldn’t kick him into the no-no touch-touch square as she had taught her.

“Excuse me?”, her voice cut through the air – sharply as it always did when she shifted into her working mode. Her daughter whirled around and her blood boiled when she recognized the glassy shimmer in her eyes. The desire to kneel next to her baby to comfort her overwhelmed her, but she pressed her feet into the ground, stretching her chin to meet his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to”, Trixie clung to her legs, a small sniffle escaping her. Her fingers threaded through her dark hair the same way they did when she woke up crying from nightmares.

“I know you didn’t”, she soothed, “it’s okay.”

“Oh, is it now?” His thick British accent interrupted her and that dick could be grateful that she left her Glock at home.

“I mean that was a perfectly good shirt before your offspring decided to bowl me over!”

“Unfortunate”, she stated curtly, unable to stop the sarcasm from bleeding through her steely front, “A washing machine? What’s that?”

His dark brows furrowed, while he patted his midriff with the napkin in his hand in an attempt to preserve his priceless shirt.

“That’s dry clean only! I just got changed before the spawn”, he gestured at Trixie, “decided to –“

“I didn’t mean to!”, her daughter piped in, staring defiantly up at him. Her chest swelled with pride at her fierceness at the man that was probably thrice as tall as her little munchkin. “I’m sorry.”

He gaped a little dumbly and if it would have been anyone else – someone who didn’t bitch around because of a stupid shirt – it would’ve been adorable.

“Well”, he found his tongue again, hands hovering, “you better be. But apology accepted offspring.”

Closing her eyes in an attempt to save whatever patience was left in her, she exhaled a breath.

“You’ve got some balls on you pal”, she murmured, glaring at him from the corner of her eye as Trixie disentangled herself from her legs.

“Thank you, but they’re quite average actually”, tall, dark and unfortunately handsome answered, grin playing with the corners of his mouth, “You can check if you like.”

She gaped at him, unintelligently, her hand coming up to grip the bridge of her nose. It was something she’d copied from her dad and claimed as her own.

“You are unbelievable”, she groaned, “I mean, you just made my eight-year-old cry and now you’re what – trying to get in my pants or something?”

“I’d hardly call that crying”, he scoffed gesturing at her monkey that had retrieved the ball and headed back to her friends, “but very perceptive, Miss…?”

She schooled her derailing facial muscles back into the glare she used on her suspects in interrogation.

“Okay, we’re done here”, she stated curtly, at the verge of turning around.

“I don’t believe we are, Miss Okay-we’re-done-here”, he smirked down at her like a cat that caught the canary, even though he had caught exactly nothing. Chloe was about to open her mouth for a retort, but he continued, cutting her short, “I mean after all your offspring’s collision did lead to my coffee all over the floor”, he glanced down at himself and added, “And my shirt.”

With wide, brown eyes he looked at her, expression slipping into something fond and open, maybe even vulnerable. She stared, before catching herself.

“Are you using puppy eyes on me?”

“Is it working?”

“It’s not”, she shook her head, eyes narrowing dangerously, but the guy seemed downright oblivious to her irritation as he jutted his lower lip forward in a pout.

“Unfortunate.”

“I am _not_ buying you coffee.” She turned to go and to finally get away from Mr. Rich-Obnoxious-and-British as he called after her.

“Oh, come now!”

What the hell was his problem? Even though he had an underlying charm to him that could be described as sympathetic at best, but man, he was staring to piss her off for real.

“I mean”, she whirled around, ending up face to face with his bewildered expression, her raised finger poking his chest, “I was going to, but not with that behavior, Mister.” He wanted to seduce her with puppy eyes? She’d treat him like a damned dog. A smug, British, goddamned dog.

“Morningstar”, he offered, a frown contorting his features as he continued staring at her.

“I didn’t ask”, she clarified curtly.

He waved her off, cufflinks nearly colliding with her nose. She blinked rapidly.

“That means you won’t treat me to coffee?”, he had the audacity to _wink_ at her.

“What?”, she bit out a laugh, “what, are we going to make it a date and let me guess, you show me your place after?”

“Now you get it!”, he exclaimed excitedly with childlike glee.

“Nope. Not happening.”

“Oh, dearie me! Miss Okay-we’re-done-here!”, he attached himself to her heels as she started walking away, praying to some deity for strength.

“What don’t you get?”, her nerves that normally resembled wires of steel were rubbed thin due to the last week’s, no the last fucking months’ stress. “No means no. I _won’t_ buy you coffee and I will certainly _not_ sleep with you! You have eyes – use them. And just”, she raked her hands through her hair, “Just get the hint! Leave me alone.”

His brows wandered to his hairline, a hint of surprise in his features. “Alright”, he raised his hands placatingly, “Alright.”

With that she stomped back to where her jacket lay, ignoring the passerby’s stares, to sink back onto the grass. Even though kids were fueled by an infinite source of energy Trixie and her companions had sat down and started to pluck the single stalks of grass.

Putting in her earbuds she leaned back, trying to relax. The last months had been nothing but a hectic blur. The signed divorce papers had triggered a rolling wave, gaining momentum. The department’s urgent call, her transfer to New York. Packing all her belongings, signing Trixie in and out of school, hunting for apartments, basically uprooting her whole life in LA to escape the jumbled mess it had been in the end. Leaving her friends – well, Ella mostly – behind and fighting with her mother. Grass tickled her forearms as she played with the head of a daisy between her fingers. She was finally regaining her footing, finally was able to breathe again. Life wasn’t easy, it had never been. But she was Chloe Decker. She’s got that.

Life wasn’t easy. It had never been that. Not when she joined the force, not when her father died, not with Palmetto. But all those experiences had shaped her into the person that she was now. It had molded her into a resilient and resourceful woman that wouldn’t back down from a challenge. Every case she encountered was a new puzzle for her to solve, even without concrete leads. She believed she could find a way, she always had. It was the reason her solving rate had skyrocketed over the last year. It could also have something to do with the amount of thrillers she read when she’d gotten a little bit of free time. (Trix always insisted it could be ascribed to the countless times they’d played Cluedo together)

Sun kissed her lids as she closed them, melting into the scene. The central park was an oasis of calmness in the city that was so unlike the desert, bustling, loud and full of life. LA had tasted of salt, ozone and too sweet coffee. Too many people, too many tourists and yet it carried the memory of peaceful afternoons spent at the beach, feet dancing with the waves, evenings at her mother’s beach house’s porch, a cup of coffee in her hands and casefiles on her lap, while watching the sunset and listening to the ocean.

This city yelled loudly and demanded never ending parties that could be heard from the tiny place that could be called balcony – the fire escape - of her apartment. Shifts stretched into the early morning hours in order to catch a perp, but it didn’t matter because this place never slept. There was a bakery at the corner of their precinct that they’d get donuts from at 3 am and the best green smoothies in a small grocery store in Astoria, that sold cheap whiskey and smelled of wet walls that started to cultivate moulds. Romantic novels would describe the scent of freshly baked croissants and flowers that’d escape from a café’s inside, but the truth was, no matter how desperately one would try to imagine the air to be clean and sweet, it reeked of petrol and piss. She associated New York with the metallic stench of blood and the gut churning taste that gore and decay left on her tongue.

She took a deep breath, tried to commit the sweet scent of grass and blossom to her mind, but her thoughts just kept spinning like a freaking carousel. Steadily spinning and promptly decided to add blinking lights in form of a stupidly handsome and infuriating man in a suit to it. Tall and lanky, pale skin and three o’clock shadow that stretched along his jawline. Her nerves prickled with annoyance. She’d met enough people like him during interrogations. Believed themselves untouchable, because they’d pay their way out of jail anyway - preferably with Daddy’s cash. She knew it was a prejudice, her gut had already rolled her eyes at her, but really. He pissed her off. It was mostly the shameless flirting aka hitting on her that bothered her. His reaction with Trixie had been within appropriate proportions, but she really didn’t have the nerve to listen to his very straightforward implications. Big fat no. But he had left her alone after she’d explicitly told him so. She shook her head. He had been nerve-wrecking, but even she had to admit that he was an image of a man. Morningstar. Never heard of that name. Sounded like some kind of stage name. He reminded her of a show man any –

“Hrmh”, a familiar person cleared his throat and she couldn’t help the annoyed groan that fell from her lips. Speaking of the devil.

Her head fell in her neck and she stared up at him. He towered over her, looking down, an expression that she couldn’t quite decipher on his face, while she pulled out her headphones. So much for relaxation. Mr. _I-can’t-take-a-hint_ was still staring down at her, teeth tugging absentmindedly at his lips. Was he nervous? No. That couldn’t be right. With a nudge of satisfaction, she glanced at the coffee that still stained his previously pristine shirt.

“What?”, she whined, too exhausted to put up a fight.

He fiddled with his cufflinks and pointed at the ground next to her. “May I?”

“Must you?”

“Please?”, he sighed, his eyes focusing on the ring of his finger. He was actually shy? How did that happen? She took in the slight hunch in his otherwise proud posture, the nearly invisible shifting of his weight from one leg to the other. A tiny smirk curled her lips that she hid behind her cool demeanor.

Shrugging she patted the grass next to her. “Right, for all I care, take a seat.”

His tongue wetted his lip as he carefully lowered himself to the ground. His long legs bent and his forearms resting on his knees he stared in front of him as if trying to figure out what to say. Her gaze flickered from him to the squealing kids that were bowing over something. Probably a butterfly or something. She listened for suspicion to make her gut squirm. Nothing. Huh. His eyes saw something only they could, his fingers playing absentmindedly with the ring on his middle finger. Gone was the cocky grin and the smug expression, instead it was replaced with something she was familiar with as she took in his furrowed brows and darkened gaze.

“What do you want?”, she finally sighed, breaking the silence between them.

He flinched barely noticeably and sat a little straighter. “Hm? Apologies… I got caught – never mind”, he shook his head if to get rid of the figments of his train of thought, “I…”

She raised her eyebrows in surprise at the lack of innuendo.

“I wanted to apologize, actually”, he said, glancing down at her, “I snapped at your offspring, which wasn’t quite fair, I suppose. And well, I certainly didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. For that … I’m sorry.”

She stared at him, sure that she gaped unattractively. “What? Really?”

“So hard to believe?”, he snorted with a nod.

“A bit”, she murmured under her breath, taken aback by the earnestness in his tone, “But”, she cleared her throat awkwardly, “Thanks. Really.”

“What can I say? I aim to surprise.”

“Sure, you do”, she shook her head, before her eyes flickered up to his to meet his gaze.

He made an amused noise at the back of his throat – something between a laugh and a snort – and lifted his lips into a smile. The way his features brightened like the living room when the sun peaked through storm clouds at her mother’s beach house, the way mirth illuminated his face in a boyish grin made him look younger than he probably was. His immaculately trimmed stubble reminded her of high-class cigarettes and the kind of fancy events she had to accompany her parents to, when she was younger, that started off with champagne in delicate flutes and ended with amber liquids in shimmering and ornate glasses. A few dark freckles adorned his face, the edge where his jaw met his neck, like burst stardust on a too bright sky. Or the color of the universe. Cosmic latte. She chuckled. The perks of having a nerd as your best friend. Black hair threatened to escape the confines of styling product, tugged loose by none too idle hands.

“So, that coffee…?”, he trailed of, his eyes crinkling happily at the edges and a short chortle left her mouth. Deranged racoon, Ella had called it.

“Nice try.”

“Oh, come now”, his shoulder nudged hers teasingly and her heart leaped right out of her chest. Unexpected touch from strangers did that to people, thank you very much.

“I’ll even pay, even if that makes no sense at all. If I recall correctly _your_ spawn decided to slam into my person. Think of the poor Cappuccino. Or at least have mercy with my caffeine withdrawn self. Come, Miss Okay-we’re-done-here. Tomorrow. Here. I can grab us two cups from that lovely bakery on Lexington Avenue and we can just sip at it and chat a little. Or drink in silence, what ever you prefer. You can bring your urchin and her friends, so well. I suppose you would want her with you, if not of course, that’s fine either. It’s entirely up to you. As long as she leaves the coffee be, that would otherwise kind of defeat the purpose, don’t you think? Anyway-“

The part of her, that wanted to be annoyed by his _caffeine withdrawn self,_ was stripped of its defenses. It was adorable. His gaze flickered from his hands, that never ceased drumming an unknown beat onto his slack clad thigh, to her, while his tongue tried to keep up with the words that spilled out of his mouth.

“Okay”, she said, trying to hide the amused grin.

He paused midsentence, leaving the rest hanging like the mismatched socks forgotten at her clothing rack.

“Okay?”

Hope perked up in his eyes.

“Okay”, she nodded, “two cups of coffee, here. Tomorrow.”

His brows knitted as he seemed to check his schedule in his head, tongue wetting his lips.

“Two pm?”

“Alright.”

“Alright”, he smiled as she smiled, before clearing his throat, “I think we should introduce ourselves, Miss Okay-we’re-done-here” - He wouldn’t drop that, would he? - “Lucifer Morningstar. At your disposal.”

She regarded his outstretched hand for a split second with raised eyebrows, because who the hell named their kid after the devil? But people were weird like that. _X_ _Æ_ _A-XII_ – yeah. That was a name.

Her fingers curled themselves around his warm palm.

“Chloe Decker. Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine, darling.”

She glanced at him with narrowed eyes, regarding his shit eating grin.

“Don’t darling me”, she groaned under her breath, but he heard it anyway and barked out a laugh.

Her daughter’s excited cry snapped her back into reality. With a quick motion her hand left his as did her eyes. She didn’t even get a spilt second to open her arms to have Trixie bowling right into her and knocking her over with 55 pounds of sheer exhilaration.

“Uff.” Air was knocked out of her body in a rush, while it curled around her little Monkey. When had her little one become so heavy?

“You see what I’m dealing with?”

She glared over her daughter’ dark curls to shut the guy up. He had no idea when to keep it too himself, did he? At least he had the decency to duck his head at her narrowed eyes and snap his mouth shut.

“Mommy, look!”, she shoved her finger into her face to show her the tiny red spot on its tip, “it’s a lady bug! Look!”

“I see it, baby”, she laughed, maneuvering her off of her so she could inspect the little insect that was happily crawling along her monkey’s hand, “that’s a beautiful little guy, isn’t it?”

The grin on the small girl’s face said more than thousand words could ever convey.

“We named it Bert. Say hi, Mommy!”

“Hey, Bert”, she chuckled, playing along, lifting her hand next to Trixie’s, “you wanna come here?”

For a moment the two of them watched the tiny beetle as it froze, seemingly unsure, before it made its way onto her finger. Its small legs tickled her skin as it climbed along her hand. Back in the day, when she had been Trixie’s age, her father had taken her on a hike nearly every weekend. She still remembered exploring every corner of the forest, stretching wide and tempting, full of secrets yet to be discovered next to the trail, that invited her to crawl beneath the bristling bushes to inspect the ants that eagerly scampered along twigs to disappear beneath the gnarly roots. That nudged her along to look at coiling and pulsing grubs and greedy bugs underneath the bark of fallen trees. Now she found them in dead bodies. How the tables had turned.

“It’s time to let Bert fly home to his family, don’t you think, Monkey?”

Lip jutted forward in a pensive pout she nodded as she observed the bug approaching her fingertip.

“Okay”, she decided, a small sigh escaping her, “bye Bert! Was nice meeting you!”

Chloe regarded her daughter for a long moment, pride pouring out of her very being at this wonderful human being that she had created, lines of her small face resembling hers in so many little ways. Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she leaned forward.

“Fly little ladybug”, she whispered and smiled in a sense of childlike glee as it spread its wings, tiny dots on bright red and took flight in that very moment. Her eyes followed it as it buzzed away, seemingly determined to indeed go home to its family. Yet it chose to drop, landing promptly on a thigh. Its owner flinched violently, before glaring at the offensive little insect, his face unable to decide between obvious disdain and surprise. A loud laugh escaped her and she clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle it. Torn between annoyance and amusement he glanced up from the ladybug – no, Bert – before his gaze caught on Trixie who had put her hands into her hips and looked at him expectantly.

“What is it, spawn?”, he finally said, squirming under her stare.

“Bert wants to say goodbye to you too”, she stated the obvious. Chloe did her best to hide her grin – albeit a quite mischievous one – but failed miserably. Lucifer sent her a death stare at the suppressed noise of amusement that escaped her, but she averted her gaze, staring stubbornly ahead. Realizing that he was blatantly being ignored, he heaved a dramatic sigh.

“Right.”

Curiosity tickled her, urged her to look and this time following its lead didn’t make her regret it. Softness flickered across his face as he nudged the tiny, red bug onto his finger. On his big palms it appeared even smaller, even more fragile. Lifting it to be on a level with his eyes, the corners of his mouth curled into a small smile.

“Have a safe trip, will you?” He nodded to himself as if in agreement to whatever the little insect had said.

“Off you pop then, you little bugger, you.”

With that he sent him flying and the three of them followed it as if mesmerized by the swirls its wings drew into the air as it buzzed away, eager to reunite with its family.

“What does bugger mean?”, Trixie piped up, confused frown crinkling her forehead. Chloe’s mouth fell open – in protest or annoyance she didn’t know yet.

“Your mother will tell you.”

She shook her head at him, eyes flickering up to pray for strength to a god she didn’t believe in.

“Don’t you have something else, you wanted to tell her?”, her eyebrows raised pointedly. He complied with an eyeroll. Like a child caught in an adult’s body, really.

“Right, Spawn...”

“Her name is Beatrice.”

“She _likes_ it when I call her that, don’t you, offspring?”

Trixie only shrugged, “It’s fine, I think. Kinda funny.”

“See?”

At her glare he finally caved in, not without grumbling underneath his breath.

“Apologies”, he finally said, sobering up, ”Beatrice”, he turned towards her daughter, “I wanted, well, I wanted to apologize for snapping at you. It was not justified. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Okay”, she agreed in an instant, causing him to snap up his head as if slightly taken aback. She was a child, what did he expect? They never held grudges for long.

“Did you have a rough day?” she added pensively, “Nana sometimes gets mad at me when she’s stressed.”

Of course, she did. Her mother had never been a prime example for a collected and well-balanced person. His eyes darkened as did his features and Chloe reached out for her Monkey, afraid that she had over stepped. She opened her mouth to apologize, to tell him it was fine, but he hummed in agreement.

“I did, yes. But as Doctor Linda keeps reminding me, I cannot displace my anger onto other people. There’s no excuse for that.”

Who the hell was Doctor Linda? And displacement? A therapist? Her daughter nodded along while Chloe wondered why he would need a therapist. Well-dressed and with a sense of childlike glee there was little off about him – aside from his quite annoying persistence and his apparently never-ending innuendos (like a pubescent teenager trapped in an adult body). Did the challenges in his job lead him into burnout, like all the managers, bankers and lawyers – aka everyone who deemed a suit appropriate day to day attire? Her eyes took him in, his relaxed posture as he threaded his fingers through the grass, chatting with her daughter. Nope. There was no way that this man suffered from chronic stress. His put together appearance got only disturbed by the brownish stain on his torso and the wrinkles and creases that would follow the unperturbed lounging on the lawn. Shadows shimmered faintly under his eyes, hidden by concealer and his eyes accentuated by an acutely drawn eyeliner on his waterline.

Difficult childhood maybe? Her thoughts continued circling like a hawk searching for prey, while she was looking for something. A clue, some kind of evidence that lead her closer to figuring him out. Maybe he came from one of those strict and demanding families, living in some mansion in the UK; with parents demanding discipline to push their children to their full capacity for them to reach the success they foresaw for their descendants. She knew their type too and not only form her line of work. She glanced at him.

Daddy issues. For sure. Guys like him always had daddy issues. Satisfied with her first impression, she nodded to herself.

“…that’s why you always have to ask yourself, whether your reaction is justified. So you don’t end up hurting other people over nothing.”

His features were earnest as he regarded her daughter, who was solemnly nodding in understanding. A little surprised she blinked at them. Had she seriously just missed a life lesson about controlling your anger?

“You are very perceptive, little urchin, aren’t you?”, the faintest of smiles danced across his lips.

“What does pur – septive mean?”, with her big brown eyes she looked up at him.

“That means that you notice and understand things super well”, Chloe jumped in, shaking of the dawning feeling that crawled inside her at how fast her Monkey had grown from a little bundle in her arms to a little girl that was yearning to still the unquenchable thirst of knowledge.

““Monkey, why don’t you go and tell your new friends goodbye? I think, we’ll head home now, alright?”

They had been here for a while already.

“Okay”, her little one pouted, eyes flickering from her to Lucifer and back, before she got up and headed across the lawn nevertheless.

“You’re leaving?”

She nodded at his question, amused by the faint shock in his words as if he had forgotten time while he had joined them on the grass.

“Mhm”, she made, “It’s getting late.”

He hummed, a deep, rumbling sound in his throat as he glanced down at himself, “I suppose I should go and get changed.”

“You do that”, she chuckled, gathering her things and got to her feet. Her jacket found its familiar place around her hips, while she grabbed her daughter’s little backpack. She brushed invisible dirt from her jeans and turned towards her newly acquired companion.

“That’s goodbye for now”, she smiled and he looked down at her with something apprehensive, yet excited in his eyes.

“It is”, his lips curled softly, before he fell back into his apparently typical teasing, “It was a pleasure Miss Okay-we’re-done-here.”

Her snort was accompanied by an eye roll.

“I'll see you tomorrow, Lucifer.”

She would not laugh at the name. nope. She wouldn’t. She was an adult, for heaven’s sake. If he was named after the devil, she’d be the last to judge him. She was from LA after all.

“Two pm?”

His voice was inquisitive, a hint of nervousness to it.

“I’ll be here”, she grinned and hoped it was encouraging enough, but not too much. Turning around, she hollered, “Trix! We’re going home!”

She could hear her groan even from where she was standing and chuckled amusedly at her reluctance. Her little monkey darted across the lawn towards her and decided to collide with Lucifer’s legs – again. Chloe tried to hide her laugh at his apparent horror as he tried to pry the girl from his midriff.

“Right, spawn, would you be so kind as to unhand me?”

“Monkey, come”, she finally came to his rescue, still smirking even as he threw her a dark look, “let go of him.”

Sighing Trixie returned to her side and grabbed her hand.

“Bye, Lucifer!”, she chirped and – suddenly a lot more enthusiastic – tugged at her arm, “Mom, come on! Leslie is coming on soon!”

Right. If she would memorize her grammar tables as well as she did with the schedule of her favorite TV shows.

“I'll see you tomorrow”, Chloe repeated and gave him a little wave, before she followed her daughter's excited lead.

“Yes”, he chuckled, “until then!”

They had barely turned and most certainly hadn’t gotten far as his loud voice urged her to whirl around.

“Chloe!”

“What?!”

“Allergies?” His grin spread wide across his lips and she couldn’t help and shake her head with a laugh.

“No!”

“Perfect!” With that Trixie pulled at her arm with so much force that she had to stumble after her monkey, wanting to get home and watch the newest episode of “Leave it to Leslie”.


	2. Where new beginnings lead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adding a little bit of Ella-ness and we'll see how Chloe's "non-date" (who are we kidding really^^) turns out.
> 
> As always, I am looking forward to constructive criticism and comments! :3
> 
> here we go^^

Ella’s upbeat voice blared out of her phone’s speakers while she switched between the boiling water that contained the spaghetti to the tomato sauce that was contently simmering in another pot.

“And I swear, girl, the last case was amazeballs, I mean completely bonkers, but amazeballs. There was this dude that created a toxin - I’ve never seen anything like it. It literally boiled the victim from the inside out. I mean, it was crazy and dangerous and it took us so long to figure out who the murderous genius was, but yeah. Loved it. I’ll have to note it down for the next forensic conference. I missed you though. It’s just not the same without you.”

“I miss you too, Ella”, she sighed over the intro of Trixie’s favorite TV show that played in the background, “And I never thought I’d say this, but sometimes I miss LA’s crazy. We had three robberies gone wrong just last week.“

“Yeah, I get that. But enough about my work, how’s it up there? Are you missing the heat already? Have you found a replacement for me yet?” Her friends slight teasing was exactly what she needed.

“No one could ever replace you”, she stated seriously, before adding, “actually, I wished you could replace our forensic scientist. He has absolutely nothing on you. Sure, he’s decent and all, all done by the book, doesn’t miss evidence, but I miss your… well your Ella-ness.”

She really did miss her joyful attitude and science fiction references.

“You are the best, Decker, you know that?”

“I know”, she replied with a slight grin, while making sure her noodles wouldn’t overcook, “But other than that… My partner Maria and I we get along quite well, went out for drinks once, but that’s it really. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a great partner and I couldn’t do it without her, but you know, it hasn’t clicked you know? But that’s fine, I mean. It’s not like I have tons of free time anyway.”

And it wasn’t like she couldn’t do it on her own.

“There’ll be new peps, trust me girl. It’s only been two and a half months.”

“I know. But!”, she exclaimed, tasting her sauce only to make a face at the sour taste. Sugar, definitely, “I went with Trixie to the Central Park and she bonded with some kids, that was good. She’s been a little out of her depth with everything that’s been going on.”

“Yeah, I get that. How is my favorite kiddo doing?”

“She’s been doing well, I’d say. She has already made friends in her new class and we’ve decorated her whole room a few weeks back. Glow in the dark stars everywhere. School has been fine and she loves the new babysitter that I’ve been able to book. Kelsey is a real lifesaver during work nights. And I mean, Trixie’s talking to Dan nearly every second day on the phone. So that’s that.”

“Ah, I see. Any news from him?”

Chloe flinched unconsciously. She really had to grow a thicker skin. Had someone asked her a year ago whether Dan would ever betray her she’d have told them that they were crazy, but well. Emotions had put a thick blindfold over her eyes. And she’d thought that they could save their marriage.

“No, and I really don’t want to talk about him, if that’s possible, please.”

“Sure, you got it, Chloe.”

“Yes, anyway”, she tried to steer away from the minefield that was her ex-husband as she transferred her phone next to the sink, while pouring the used water down the drain, steam fogging her sight, “So we visited the Central Park, you know as a little weekend excursion, kind of. Trixie was playing with the other kids and she wanted to go get the ball and crashed into this guy, completely on accident and all, spilling his coffee everywhere and he was just such a dick about it, really. All smug and British and _she knocked my coffee out of my hand_ ”, she tried to imitate his accent and failed miserably, “Nearly made her cry.”

“What? Oh, no is my Trix alright or do I have to send Ricardo up to break the guy’s legs?”

Chloe snorted at the display of Lopez’ overprotectiveness.

“No, she’s fine. You know her, she glared at him with her 4 foot 2, you would’ve been so proud at her. And I mean I gave him a piece of my mind, you know me.”

“Nothing gets past Mama Decker.”

“Damn right”, she agreed with a nod, “But do you know what the idiot did?”, she continued with a deep breath without awaiting her answer, “he has the nerve to fucking hit on me.”

“Mommy, that was a bad word!”, Trixie yelled from her place in front of the TV.

“Sorry, Monkey!”, she told her, before continuing over Ella’s amused laughter, “Yeah, that man I swear. He hit on me and boy, I thought I’d explode right there. We went our parted ways and he came back.”

“Oh no”, her friend groaned, a door slamming shut in the background, “Is he one of those men?”

“No”, she hurried to say, because as persistent as he had been, he had respected her boundaries when she had clearly had enough, “he apologized. He came over, all sheepish and sorry and apologized for pissing me off. And”, her teeth tugged at her lower lip, while she set two bowls onto the small kitchen table in the corner of the kitchen, “we’re getting coffee tomorrow.”

“ _What?!_ Decker gets some! Finally!”, she flinched at her friends excited exclaim, sure that her ears would start bleeding soon, “So he _is_ a British dick?”

Chloe groaned and rolled her eyes as Ella burst into laughter. “Very funny ,Ella Lopez.”

“Sorry”, she managed between huffed breaths, “Tell me everything. And don’t you dare leave out anything.”

“Okay, so. After hitting on me and him apologizing we just sat there and then he started rambling on, clearly nervous and asked me out, looked at me with literal puppy eyes. He went on about me having to repay him for his spilled coffee and that he’d buy it, if I didn’t want to pay and we could talk a bit and it was quite amusing to be honest. At first, he was all confident and smug and then turned into well, that. I couldn’t say no, you know?”

A chuckle left her lips at the thought of the grown man that had sat next to her like a nervous teenager and she couldn’t in good conscience deny him the modest wish of her presence.

“So, you’re going on a date tomorrow?”

“I wouldn’t call it a date”, she retorted with an eyeroll, “It’s just two adults getting coffee and besides Trixie will join us.”

“Mhm, sure thing, girlfriend. Not a date at aaall.”

“It is not! No matter what you say, I don’t _need_ a man to coddle me. I’ve seen how that turnes out.”

“No one is talkin’ about a relationship”, Ella groaned on the other line, “It can be just for fun, y’know?”

“Right, that seems like something Lucifer would agree to”, she shook her head in exasperation as she mumbled underneath her breath.

“Wait what? Lucifer?”

“That’s his name, Ella. Yeah, I know, don’t laugh!” Her friend’s giggle reverberated through the small apartment anyway.

“I haven’t even told you about Bert yet”, she tried to change the topic.

“Who is Bert?”, Ella interrupted and she could literally see her in front of her inner eye, her jaunty ponytail jumping up and down with her excitement, “are you juggling two men now? Decker!” The tone in her voice dripped with suggestion and she couldn’t stop the groan that fell from her lips.

“I am _not_ juggling anybody. Bert is the ladybug that Trixie found at the park.”

“Oh, alright.”

“So, Trix found this ladybug and brought it to me and we named it Bert and it landed on his pants and you should have seen his face. He looked outright outraged that Bert abused his suit pants as pit stop. Anyway, he told him goodbye after Trixie wouldn’t stop pestering him about it and well. It was adorable”, she admitted curtly, trying to be nonchalant about it, but what kind of forensic scientist would her friend if she didn’t pick up on it.

“Did I hear adorable?”, Ella’s grin could be heard even after the 4 000 kilometers that it travelled.

“Yes”, she sighed, “You did.”

“I’m telling you, Decker, I’m telling you.”

“Yes, I got it”, she groaned and turned off the stove-

“But the devil scared of a teeny, tiny ladybug?” She was still laughing. Right.

“Come on, the name is not that weird.”

“Riiight…”

“Okay, maybe it is, but we have seen crazier things in LA.”

“Yeah, we have, I’m sorry Chloe, but it is kinda funny.”

“Mhm, get all the laughs out so I can continue, alright?”

Obviously trying her best to swallow her giggles she protested, “No, I got it, go on!”

Even knowing she couldn’t see the deadpan look she gave her she stared at the phone.

“So, then he explained to Trix, how it’s not alright to be mean to people, even if one has a bad day and apologized to her and yeah. Then we went home. We’ll see how it goes, tomorrow I mean.”

“I am literally so hyped for you girl”, she could hear her voice gushing, “Tell me he’s handsome, please? Like, is he? On a scale from one to ten. Does it compensate his weird ass name?”

“Ella”, she admonished.

“It’s about the character and personality and Trixie, I know, I know, but come on. Humor me.”

Chloe let out a deep sigh and filled the pasta in the two bowls. “He’s not ugly, like at all, that’s for sure.” At the unhappy sound that met her she added, “A – oh I don’t know, a nine?”

“A nine!?”

“Ella, please, could you try not to imitate a bat please? I’m kinda attached to my eardrum, you know.”

“Sorry not sorry, but Decker! Next time you lead with that, okay! What’s the smug, British devil’s full name? I gotta see that for myself.”

“Are you going to abuse the police database again?”

“Noo, I was more thinking Instagram and Twitter and all that.”

“Right”, she snorted, grabbing the two bowls after putting Ella’s chirpy voice into her back pocket and made her way over to the couch. “Dinner, Monkey.”

“Thanks, Mommy!”, her little girl grinned brightly, taking her spaghetti out of her hands, digging in, while she let herself fall onto the soft cushions next to her daughter. She turned the phone’s speaker off and tucked it between her cheek and her shoulder.

“Name, Chloe!”

“Lucifer. Lucifer Morningstar. Oh, will you stop laughing at that!”

When the laughter at the other end of the end didn’t subside and mixed with the clicking of the LAPD’s keypad, she rolled her eyes and twirled her own dinner around her fork. For a short, wonderful moment quietness overcame the forensic scientist.

“SWEET BEJEEZUS, GIRL!”

She flinched violently, nearly dropping both, the bowl in her hand and the phone in her other.

“Ella!”

“Chloe, what is that supposed to mean – a nine! Have you looked at the fella?”

“Yeah, I did, matter of fact.”

“Like, _dios mios_! Those lips and the jaw line, have you seen his jaw line?!”

“Yes, Ella”, she groaned, not knowing what else to say and decided to let her rant.

“Can you please tell me that even if you don’t want a relationship and your non-date date doesn’t turn out to be a complete failure that you’ll take a trip to pound town with him?”

“Ella Lopez!”, she hissed, “no! I am not interested in-“

“Yeah, but it doesn’t have to mean anything, right?”

“I wont just”, she glanced down at Trixie who was engrossed in the TV show, “do the “deed” with some rando, just because he’s available.”

“Come on, loosen up Decker, I mean have you seen him? I bet he’s got moves…”

“Okay, Ella, I am hanging up now”, she tried to tell her friend, who was rambling on without paying attention to her apparent unease.

“He’d worship you and moan your name with that delicious accent and…”

“Okay, bye, I’ll hear from you soon.”

Her laughter reverberated through the small apartment as she ended the call with a roll of her eyes and heat rushing to her cheeks.

“Auntie Ella says hi, Monkey.”

“Coool!”, she grinned at her, the gap between her teeth even more prominent, “I miss her! Does she miss me too?”

“She misses you incredibly”, Chloe smiled, “So, what’s happening? Did Leslie find her missing backpack?”

Later that night when she tucked her little Monkey in, her dark eyes looked curiously up at her.

“What is it, Trixie?”, her fingers smoothed down the creases of her blanket, before they cupped her daughter’s cheek softly.

“Can we go to the park tomorrow?”

“Mhm”, she nodded, a light smile on her lips, “You know the man we met today? Lucifer?”

At her expectant gaze, she continued, “Well, he and I are going to drink some coffee while you play with the other kids, is that all right, Monkey?”

“Yup”, she grinned, snuggling Miss Alien tighter, “I like him, he’s funny.”

“You think so? He didn’t make you uncomfortable, because he was rude to you?” She narrowed her eyes, because no matter how charming he appeared to be, if her girl didn’t like him and didn’t feel at ease around him, he’d be benched.

“At first a little, but then he apologized and stuff”, Trixie explained, “And he was really nice to Bert.”

A chuckle rumbled in her chest at the memory of that. “He really was.”

“So, yeah, I think he’s cool.”

“Right”, she leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead, “I’m glad. Sleep tight, Monkey, I love you.”

“I love you too, Mommy.” With a last, quick kiss on her daughter’s nose she got up and turned to leave.

“Mommy?”

“Yeah, Trixie?”, she took her in, her small, brave girl whose blanket was tugged up to her chin, Miss Alien tightly stuck to her side.

“Can I call Daddy tomorrow?” Her chest constricted painfully at that and left her out of breath with the onslaught of emotions. No matter how many issues Dan and she had, he was still her father and if she wanted to talk to him, she’d be the last person to deny her that.

“Sure. Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight.” The light flickered and died and buried her daughter’s room in soothing darkness, only to be illuminated by the fluorescent stars that shone down from her ceiling. With a last deep breath, she closed the door behind her. The bittersweet feeling of melancholy hit her unexpectedly as she stood in the doorway of the empty living area. What would she give for a warm presence to hand her a glass of red wine, gazing down on her with a tender smile, before leading her to the sat-in couch for her to snuggle up in a warm blanket – she shook her head.

Been there, done that, got the T-shirt. Her marriage had broken apart the moment Dan had decided to betray her, to let her believe she was crazy for trying to figure a disaster out that he’d caused. That he’d been responsible for. He knew all along and stabbed her in the back, had deceived her.

Her colleagues had avoided her like a pestilence, had thrown angry glances at her. She didn’t want to go down that particular rabbit hole. She’d spent enough nights pitying herself. It was full on rear view in the past and she was moving forward with all of her combined force. It was Trixie and her and they’d do just fine. She didn’t need a man to be happy, didn’t need a relationship if the pain of betrayal was the price she’d to pay. She wasn’t looking for something long term, wasn’t looking for anything really. And coffee in the central park did not count as a date.

\---

Her fingers fiddled with the key in her hand as she glanced at her watch. It was five past two and he still hadn’t shown up. Shaking her head, she ignored the gnawing doubt in the back of her mind. He was late, not a no-show. He probably got held up somewhere. After all he had practically begged her to meet him. Folding her legs underneath her body she stretched her libs, the cotton of her shirt riding up her belly. Trixie was – again – wadding through the shallow water of the pond, little hands searching for stones to flick across the smooth surface. Restless fingers smoothed down her sleeves as she begrudgingly admitted she had probably put a little too much thought and worry into her appearance. She had actually considered wearing a dress. To a park. Not that she didn’t enjoy wearing dresses, no, they were actually a lot of fun to play around with and glam up on a night out, but completely unpractical for her day to day life. So she had stood pondering in front of her mirror and four outfits later given up. It wasn’t even a date. Light button up shirt and jeans it was.

The fact that he was late was stoking the flames of self-consciousness that licked along her insides every once in a while. Chloe Decker wasn’t an insecure person, no, not by any means, but since her divorce it had gotten hard to believe that anyone would actually be interested in _her_. In a single mother, who barely got to wash her hair on a regular basis and was buried underneath paperwork most of her time. Maybe he wouldn’t even ask, maybe all he saw was a hot body and a beautiful face. She shuddered at the thought of greedy eyes roaming over her figure as she trailed behind her mother at some event. She flinched violently as someone tapped her shoulder. Her heart beat furiously in her chest as she whirled around

““I am so sorry for my delay. I underestimated the wait for two cappuccinos and a slice of cake.”

His accent was so distinct that she would have known his voice without even looking. His eyes twinkled apologetically, yet with a hint of mischief down at her.

“Jesus, you scared the hell out of me.”

“Not quiet”, he winked and let himself sink onto the ground next to her, “Again, so sorry, darling.”

“Yes, tragic”, she deadpanned with a chuckle, deliberately ignoring the endearment. A soft wave of relief washed over her like a morning wave at the beach.

“I know, what has become of the world?”, he quipped and offered her one cup, “I hope it’s to your liking, I don’t know your usual order.”

With a grateful hum she took the white paper cup and answered with a small grin, “A tall almond milk late with a sugar free caramel drizzle. But this is fine, thank you.”

“Is noted”, Lucifer winked and adjusted his navy suit jacket. She hid her amused smile and the rising heat in her cheeks with a small sip of her coffee. The bitter taste danced across her tongue only to be mellowed by the foam that accompanied it.

“This is really good”, she stated after a second and maybe a third gulp, “Damn.”

“You’re welcome”, he grinned pleased with himself and set the white paper bag onto the ground that had been occupying his hand. She pointed at it, “Is that for me too?”

He followed her finger and chuckled, “If your offspring is willing to share, then of course.”

Her mouth gaped a little as she regarded him with a sudden fondness.

“You got Trixie cake?”

“Mhm, I did. I hope she likes chocolate cake.”

“Oh, does she?”, she chuckled, “She’d probably kill for chocolate cake. Hey!”, she raised her voice, “Trixie, come here!”

“Thank you, Lucifer”, she added more gently like it meant something, because to her it did.

Her little monkey lifted her curly head and her furrowed brows relaxed and her face brightened instantaneously when she saw the man sitting next to her.

“Lucifer!”, a squeal of delight tore through the calm atmosphere as she darted across the lawn. Chloe giggled as his eyes widened and she stole his coffee cup out of his slack grip, just a moment before an overexcited eight-year-old collided with the tall man.

“Ah”, escaped him, a slightly panicky sound, “please don’t make this a habit.”

For some inexplicable reason his apprehension amused her. Why on earth would a grown man be scared of a little kid.

Said kid had thrown her small arms around his neck as she had nearly knocked him over. Chloe couldn’t deny that it gave her some kind of satisfaction to see a confident, grown man squirm helplessly in her daughter’s grasp. “Urchin”, he wheezed, “will you let go of me?”

“No”, her grip just tightened and a frustrated groan left his lips.

“Oh for…”, he muttered underneath his breath, “I got you chocolate cake, urchin, but you won’t get it if you don’t”, with a jump back he was free and continuing, obviously relieved, “let go of me. Thank you, spawn.”

A clearly suppressed a shudder that had Chloe roll her eyes. Melodramatic much?

“Chocolate cake?”, she stared at him with big brown eyes that left every golden retriever puppy in the dust.

“Yes, here”, he plucked the bag from the grass and handed it to her, “there should be a fork and some napkins in there as well.”

“Cool!”, she shrieked as she opened it.

“Trixie, what do we say?”, Chloe admonished lightly.

“Thank you, Lucifer!”, her daughter grinned, the gap between her teeth prominently displayed, “You’re the best!”

“You’re quite welcome, urchin”, he smiled at her, unsure, but not unkind.

For a while they sit in comfortable silence, sipping their cappuccinos, while Trixie was munching happily in front of them. When the latter had finished and had the residues of her feast removed from around her mouth, she was back at her feet and running back to where she’d discarded her shoes.

She likes you, you know?”, she started while watching her kneel down to pick up pebbles.

“Of course, what’s not to like?”, she could practically hear his grin and shook her head.

“You’re so full of yourself.”

“Am I ever?”

“Yes, you are”, she smirked, before lifting her cup back to her lips.

“So, Mr. Morningstar to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?” Turning her head to face him, she paused. The apparent wool of his suit was so out of place, yet Lucifer seemed to belong right where he was, leaning back on his elbows and completely at ease.

“Oh, just your fascinating self, Miss Decker”, he mused, his dark eyes sparkling with interest.

“You don’t even know me!”, a laugh left her lips.

“Exactly”, he grinned at her like the cat that caught the canary. She rolled her eyes and enjoyed the way the sun tickled her skin.

“Oh, come now”, he purred, sitting up, “tell me a little about yourself. Don’t be shy.”

“I’m not”, she hummed, “Right. What do you want to know?”

A snort left his lips, “So unoriginal. Right then. What brings _you_ to New York?”

“Who’s the unoriginal one, now?”, she teased, “What makes you think that I am not from here?”

“Mh, just a hunch”, he smirked regarding her with interest. She took a sip as she worried her lower lip between her teeth. His brown eyes invited her warmly to share whatever she wanted to share with him. His torso turned into her direction, posture open and inviting.

“Work”, she eventually sighed, “mostly. I had to get away from LA.”

From the corner of her eye she saw him listen intently and dammit, it felt good to have someone putting her into focus.

“A tough case involved me and my ex-husband. There was a lot of tension in put department and a lot of blame to go around. It wasn’t pretty and the commissioner’s call saved me in a way. He wanted me to transfer to New York because of my high closure rate, so here I am.”

He nodded slowly and something that she couldn’t decipher flickered over his features, so quickly that she was sure she had just imagined it, “So I take it you’re working with the police?”

“Mhm”, she nodded, the corners of her mouth tugging upwards, “Homicide detective”

“A Detective!”, his eyes lit up with glee, “Unbelievable. That means you get to punish the bad guys?”

“Something like that, yeah”, she grinned, “Need a partner, Satan?”

Lucifer barked out an amused laugh that warmed her insides and made her heart flutter.

“I’ve been waiting for a quip about my name, Detective Decker.”

_Detective Decker_. It had quite the ring to it.

“I mean, yeah”, she threw him an incredulous look, “No offense, but that name? I get it there are tons of weird names out there – North West, Princess, whatever – but naming your child after the devil?”

He snorted and took a sip of his cappuccino and she couldn’t help but follow those ridiculously enticing lips. _He’d worship you and moan your name with that delicious accent…_

Nope Chloe, not going there.

“Yes, well the religious names are my family’s fault I suppose”, he shrugged, tone flat and carrying a hint of sharp anger in them, “Not that that’s the name my parents gave me. Wasn’t better anyhow. But, I found the devil to be quite fitting for my person.”

It made her pause. Even as an atheist she knew what being the devil implied and she didn’t see it. How could someone who got her daughter chocolate cake and explained to her that one couldn’t take out his anger at others, possibly have any resemblance with what the catholic church had set as a symbol for sin and destruction?

“How so?”, her head tilted to one side. At his confused expression she elaborated, “How could you”, she gestured at his impeccably dressed self, “be like the devil? I mean, isn’t he supposed to be evil incarnate?”

“Hm, you’d think so, wouldn’t you?”, he eyed her warily, but as he took in her open posture, he continued, “The church likes their controversiality if you look at it from the right angle. First of all, the devil was once an angel and supposedly god’s favourite”, he swallowed lightly, before he continued, “after the devil fell, his duty was to punish evil. But how would someone, who punishes the worst of the worst, be evil himself? So, I don’t necessarily think the devil is evil per se. He rebelled against his father, yes. He got cast out of heaven for it. He stands for _fierceness_ and free will and the fact that despite all the bad things that happened to him, he carried on.”

His eyes and tone carried a fire that she hadn’t seen before. Not in him, nor in any other person. Ella housed an excited flame within her soul, full of mirth, mischief and joy, but his held flickering tongues with the force of a raging wildfire, full of passion and power. The hairs at the back of her arms stood up at his explanation.

“And let’s not forget his ability to tempt people into sin, of course”, he added with a leer and she shook off her trance.

“We can explore this side of me together if you want.”

Oh right, there he was again. King of all playboys.

“Oh, shut up”, she groaned, but she couldn’t suppress the smile that had stolen onto her lips, “So, why are _you_ here? In New York I mean.”

Again, something painfully raw had his eyes shining for a split second, before he shrugged the nonchalance back on that he – admittedly – wore so well.

“Well, I left home, because frankly I had enough of my family. I packed my bags, changed my name, decided I wanted a new beginning and what better place to find one’s place than in a city that is home to so many different personalities?”

He grinned at her, all previous gloominess forgone.

“Hm, I get that. So? Have you found your place?”

“I suppose so”, he sighed and let his head fall into his neck. Her eyes scrutinized him shamelessly, took in the white shirt and the jacket that complemented his broad shoulders as he leaned back and took a deep breath. Even though she could do without the obvious innuendos, she felt at ease in his vicinity. Maybe they _could_ be friends at one point or another.

“And?”, she smiled, “what does the devil do for a living?”

“Oh, I work in a bar.”

“What?”, an incredulous laugh faded into amused giggles, “So Satan tends the bar now?”

He chuckled and looked back up at her. “Together with his demon from hell, of course.”

“Of course”, she nodded seriously, before grinning at him.

“You can come visit me sometime”, he winked at her and she feigned nonchalance, “I promise I’ll behave if that helps”, he snickered at her wide eyes. With tight lips she shook her head. That man would never give up, would he?

“Come on, Detective, just for a drink or two”, he sighed, mockingly desperate, “Just to keep your favourite devil going.”

“Oh, so you’re my “favourite” devil now?”, her eyes rolled in their sockets at his impertinent self.

“Well, do you know any other devil?”

“Uhm, no?”

“See, so I must be your favourite”, he grinned pleased with himself.

“Oh, I see”, she groaned, while he sent her a clearly amused look before taking of the lid of his cup and pouring the rest of his beverage down his throat. A bit of white foam got stuck on his stubble, that he wiped away with his thumb.

“Who knows, maybe I will.”

He turned back, brows furrowed.

“Come visit you, I mean.”

If he offered, her drinks would better be on the house.

“Really?”, surprise colored his voice and his hopeful expression melted her heart. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who could use a friend.

“Sure. I haven’t gotten out a lot in the two months that I’ve been here anyway.”

“Mh, and because you want to see your favourite devil.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Lucifer”, she snorted and finished her coffee as well.

“Oh, I can think of a few other things involving you and me that’d help me sleep at night.”

She balked, before she hid her face between her hands. “Really?”

The rest of the afternoon went by peacefully, filled with banter and sunrays that caressed her skin. she had rolled up her sleeves to her elbows, light material crinkling where it collected at her arms. Lucifer had lost his suit jacket, meticulously folded next to him in the grass. Chloe’s eyes were glued on her little girl, whose dark hair twirled through the air and caught cherry blossom, while she skipped her stones across the clear, translucent pond that held the trees’ crowns and the running clouds. People were out and about, lying in the soft grass, laughing with friends, running their laps or stretching their limbs, tired of the daily hustle. Her eyes lingered as a lean jogger passed them, muscles bulging as he held them closely to his torso. A silent sigh escaped her lips, barely agape. A woman could dream, couldn’t she?

A chuckle made her eyes widen and whirl around. Lucifer had followed her line of sight. A hint of shame picked at her skin, because dammit, this was inappropriate even if she didn’t owe him anything.

“And you have excellent taste, Detective”, he sighed happily, a mirthful spark in his gaze, “You keep getting even better than I dared to dream.”

She swallowed not only her spit but also her tongue at that. What-? But when he added, a sly expression stealing itself onto his face, “And I did dream about you.”

“Ew”, she murmured, shaking herself out of her speechless daze at his remark. Glancing back at the runner, who was slowly disappearing out of her line of sight, she furrowed her brow as the gears turned in her head.

“What do you mean?”, she asked slowly.

“What do I mean?”, he threw her an incredulous look, “have you properly looked at the fella? Well, I suppose you did, but he does look delicious.” His tongue wetted his lips as he sighed softly. “So fit.”

“Oh”, she made, nodding and nodding again, “So – men?”

Unsure of how to voice his attraction to the same sex or how to clarify what he wanted of _her,_ she felt her cheeks getting hot.

“Mh, yes”, he agreed easily.

“Oh, okay! So –I’m so sorry, I was so caught up in whether this was a date that I didn’t think…”

His gaze snapped up, while his brows furrowed confusedly. A flash of insecurity hurried across his features.

“This isn’t a date?”

“What”, she stuttered, while her heart lurched in her chest as she stumbled across her words. Her eyes roved over his worried expression and from him back to the path the runner had disappeared on.

“I thought, you know, you were into men?”

She hated the way her voice got squeaky at the end.

“Oh, yes”, he hurried to say, “No, you see, I like both men _and_ women”, with a thoughtful expression he added, “well, I suppose I couldn’t care less about the gender, actually. Am I making sense?”

Oh. Her eyes growing into saucers she nodded hastily.

“Yes, of course, sure. Mhm. I’m sorry, that was weird”, she let the air out of her mouth, cheeks billowing. Embarrassment prickled in her cheeks.

“You are quite adorable, when you’re flustered.” She wished she could wipe that damned smirk from his face.

“I”, she bristled, “I am not flustered.”

“Yes, you are”, she could practically feel his smugness hanging in the air.

“Okay, yes, I am, but come on, how couldn’t I be? That was weird. And I apologize for that.”

“No need, Detective”, he chuckled, but the glimmer of apprehension didn’t leave his gaze.

“So”, he cleared his throat, “About this –“

“Is this a date?”, she blurted out, teeth abusing her lower lip. She could feel her heart try to burst through her ribcage at how anxiously it was beating. She wasn’t ready, not at all, but something inside her bristled at the thought of hurting him. _Even if his feelings were not her responsibility._

He took her in, while his posture relaxed and his dark eyes gazed at her, open and warm.

“Only if you want it to be.”

She released a breath that eased her tightly coiled tension and shrugged. “Don’t take this the wrong way, because it has nothing to do with you or your sexuality for that matter”, she hurried to add, “but I’d rather think of this just as coffee between two, I don’t know, friends I suppose? Because I really enjoy hanging out and talking to you”, she continued and tried to squish the unease that fluttered in her stomach as he listened intently to her, “but I just left a marriage that kind of ended in a disaster and yeah. I hope you can understand.”

“No worries, darling”, he smiled, something longing hidden behind his eyes, “I understand. Leaving a former partner behind can be a bitch.”

Wistfully his gaze lingered on his hands, while a soft sigh left his lips. The way his brows furrowed with unease made her swallow her questions. Clearly, his ex wasn’t someone that he wanted to talk about if his whole posture was something to go by. He had crossed his legs, while he drew his arms in as if to protect himself. Compassion for the enigma of a man next to her flooded her entire being. She knew what it meant to be alone after loving someone so dearly that the gap they left threatened to swallow one as a whole. Her fingers reached out for him in a gesture of understanding, before her brain even registered it. Yet, when their tips drew slow circles on the soft fabric of dress shirt and his hand covered her much smaller one with a hint of gratitude, it was too late for her to take it back. Not that she would have wanted to. If he wanted to entrust his story to her, she’d be there to listen. For now, she’d be left with the unanswered questions about who he or she was and what had happened.

“So, I take it your ex-husband was quite the douche?”

A snort left her. “Yah, you could say that. Detective Douche.” A small smile curled her lips at that.

“Credits for the alliteration, Detective!”, he grinned at her, a dazzling, blinding grin, filled with mirth and warmth, “tell me, what did he do?”

She groaned. Apparently, he didn’t grant her the same curtesy of keeping his questions for himself.

“Do we have to talk about him on a wonderful day like this?”, she tried to evade his interrogation.

“Uhu, most certainly”, he smirked at her, “You had me at Detective Douche, you can’t just leave me hanging like that.”

“Can’t I?”, she imitated his accent, admittedly terribly so. His laugh made her insides float, while he just shook his head.

“No, you can’t. Consider me, your personal, devilishly handsome therapist of the hour.”

Gesturing at himself with exaggerating hands he grinned at her.

When even pouting didn’t help the weirdly encouraging look on his face, she sighed, struggling for words. She most certainly didn’t want to go into detail about Palmetto street. Trying to get at least some structure into her thoughts she sighed.

“Oh I don’t know, all right? He – I suppose he was constantly patronizing me. “ _Chloe, think this through_ ” and “ _Chloe, you need to be smart about this, this is an open and shut case_ ”, when it was clearly not, goddamn it.” 

The disgusted curl around his mouth gave her enough confidence to continue after taking a deep breath.

“It irked me from the very start. He always tried to guard me, show me off as his trophy wife who’d stand by and shut her mouth and make no noise. You know how often my gut feeling lead to a breakthrough in a case? Like 95 percent of the time and he still tried to get me to cower! So, when I was investigating that crook of a cop and nearly the whole department went against me, you know what he did? He did nothing. He just stood by and tried to get me to drop the damned case.”

_Even when he knew I was right. Even when he could have backed up my statement, because he was there, because he was the one to shoot Malcom._

The darkness that flickered across his features was amplified by her words like the epicenter of an earthquake by colliding tectonic plates.

“What a lousy excuse of a husband”, he growled, deep and guttural.

“In the end he was”, she grimaced, “But he’s Trixie’s dad, so I tried to keep going, you know, because it would be best for her if her parents stayed together, but at some point… I just couldn’t go on like that.”

Her eyes glassed over at the way her stomach had dropped when she’d found out and his betrayal had ripped the floor underneath her. He had been there and he had goaded her into believing she was crazy, had painted her as a ruthless and cruel devil in front of her colleagues. Enough of that. She could pull herself together. She’d not break. She was Chloe Decker and she would not yield.

“Yes, well I suppose the familiar relation is a shame”, he sighed, an annoyed frown had settled on his face, “But rest assured that your offspring will be nothing like him, not with a mother like you.”

Her throat closed up dangerously at his words as they reached her consciousness and soothed her soul. Validation from a man she’d met the day before really shouldn’t have such an impact on her, but the fact that he believed in her – somehow – floored her.

“Thank you”, she said, glancing at him, voice thick with honesty.

“I mean you clearly have a refined taste in the opposite sex if I judged the previous instant correctly”, he continued, still visibly irritated, “which is why such a spectacularly bad choice of a man surprises me. You don’t deserve someone who pushes you down and suppresses you. You deserve someone who will cherish your instincts, your wits and will follow your lead instead of trying to pressure you into something else because he felt threatened in his manhood.”

He cleared his throat, creased forehead smoothing, “You have a great sense of humor and style.” He gifted her a wink. “And I must say, I do quite appreciate your fierceness, Detective. Anyone who would try to dim it must be a fool.”

“I”, she stuttered unable to form words at how sure he sounded as if her goodness were an unshakable fact. She took the words and held onto them tightly to lock them in her heart and take them out when the days were nothing but long and trying.

He stared at her at her inability to react. “My, have I broken you?”

She just shook her head quickly, managing a thin, “Nuhu.” As he scrutinized her, concern flickered across his gaze.

“Because I’d rather render you speechless with my rather extensive sexual skills.”

A groan escaped her and finally shook her out of her daze.

“Oh, shut up.” 

The afternoon passed way too quickly for her liking and she found herself walking next to him, getting closer to the exit of the park.

“Well”, she sighed, Trixie hanging tightly onto her hand as the shadows grew longer and she stood, looking up at him. The corners of his eyes tightened into warm wrinkles, while the impossibly dark brown of his eyes shone softly. “We should do this more often. I had a great time.”

“So did I”, he smiled and now she could understand how it would be hard to resist a smile like this, open and genuine.

“You have my number saved?”, she asked again, just to be sure.

“Yes, I have. The detective, a wonderful four syllable contact name. Fret not.” She chuckled at that.

“I guess that’s a goodbye for now?”, she grinned as he gazed down on her, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards.

“What, you won’t allow me to escort you home?”, his tone was light and teasing and she couldn’t help roll her eyes.

“Nope, I am still a cop after all.” He laughed at that, clearly amused.

“So be it, Detective. Get home safely, will you?”

“I will and you too, alright?”

“Of course.”

“Monkey, say goodbye to Lucifer.”

Her daughter grinned up, teeth gaping and her eyes sparkling with excitement. She disentangled herself from Chloe’s side and attached herself to the man’s long legs.

“Ah, yes, urchin”, he said, squirming, before patting her head softly, “Goodbye to you too. Be good.”

“Bye Lucifer! And thank you for the cake!”, she gazed up at her with stars in her eyes as if she’d just encountered her personal superhero, while he shuffled from one foot to the other. He had no idea what he’d gotten himself into.

“Ah, you’re quite welcome. And off you go, chop chop”, he pried her off himself and shooed her towards the blonde’s side.

“Bye Lucifer”, she chuckled, while she took her daughter’s hand into hers.

“Goodbye, Detective”, he said, shoving his hands into his pockets a smile on his lips.

She turned and followed Trixie along the pebbled path, not without glancing back only to see him regarding them with a pondering expression, head cocked in thought. A warmth that she’d been missing for a while crept into her bones. No, it hadn’t got anything to do with the non-date date, she decided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick disclaimer: Which ever name you have, it is amazing. Don't let anybody tell you otherwise. People will always find a way to judge you, so just ignore them and own it, own your uniqueness. You're amazing.


	3. Thoughts like clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> quick interlude as it doesn't quite sit right in either of the chapters before and after it^^

Later that day, when Trixie was fast asleep and she was huddled up under the covers she couldn’t suppress the little smile that grazed her lips, when she stared up at the ceiling that was painted in the glowing orange of the streetlights and reminisced the afternoon. How could it be that she hadn’t felt that connected to her husband during years of marriage, but to this stranger that she’d only met yesterday? Their easy banter reminded her of coming home, coming to a close friend that she had known for ages; as if the bond between the two had never ceased, had never weakened. It didn’t matter that he had been rude at first, that she only knew him since yesterday or that he named himself after the literal devil, for crying out loud. None of it had mattered when he stated with such surety, such conviction that she was someone to be cherished, that one ought to have her back. She wasn’t ready for anything romantic, but she liked hanging out with him, she really did.

Even his obvious innuendos didn’t bother her, because no matter how many sly smirks he’d throw her, he clearly respected her boundaries and that was something that sent gratitude through her whole being, filled her with the same warm, orange light as the street lights that lit up her small bedroom.

No matter how desperately she’d listened for any unease settling in her gut, she hadn’t found it. Investigating homicides had shaped and refined her instincts, sharpened them and led her to know – to truly know with shadows lurking in her stomach, screaming at her that something was _wrong_ – to know when people hid and lied.

She should have known with Dan. She should have. Why didn’t she? Why didn’t she know and how could she be sure that her instincts didn’t fail her this time? How could she? But a part of her, deep down trusted her, trusted this – whatever it was – trusted him, as if he had been by her side for even longer than she could comprehend. It irked her as it was her mystery to figure out. How could it be that he had, a cappuccino in hand and a genuine smile on his lips, pushed some of her walls aside as if it had been nothing? It should scare her, but it somehow it really didn’t.


	4. Workaholic much?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Lucifer out for lunch - enjoy^^

Her thoughts were all over the place, torn between Trixie’s school project, long overdue reports and a new murder on Russel street, which she still had to interrogate the spouse for. She was running low on energy and high on stress that had shoved tall, dark and handsome Satan in the very corner or her mind. She was buried underneath files and arrest reports and suspect lists and nearly dropped her phone when it buzzed excitedly and an unknown number lit up her screen. Calming her rapidly beating heart as she fumbled with it, she unlocked it.

_Detective!_ , the message read, _it’s me, your_ _favourite neighbourhood_ _devil… I just wanted to check in with you… how is the detecting going these days?_

Lucifer. Of course. A tiny smile crept onto her lips at his antics and let out a snort of amusement as a second text popped up.

_I really do hope this is your real number and not a fluke, though._

With swift fingers dancing across the keypad she answered.

**No, it’s me, Lucifer, no worries. The paperwork that comes with detecting is a bitch at the moment, other than that I am fine ^^ how’s Satan doing today?**

She had yet to run said Satan’s identity through the police database to gather every little bit of information on him – but maybe she should stop doing that. Supporting her paranoia was clearly not healthy, as useful as it proved itself to be on the job.

She could practically hear his bark of laughter in her mind.

_Now that I can be sure it is you, detective, and stop pondering about whether to text you or not, I am good thanks ^^_

_Hell’s running smoothly and all ; )_

A smile danced with the corner of her mouth as she released a deep breath for tension to bleed out of her shoulders, while her stomach grumpily demanded attention. She checked the time. She could put her lunch break in now.

**That’s good to know! Anyway, I’m heading out on lunch now, I’ll see you later**

_Alright… until we text again, Detective._

Unsure of the purpose of the conversation she frowned at her display, before she shrugged and decided that it wasn’t important. She shoved her phone into the back pocket of her jeans, before she grabbed her keys and headed out. She didn’t even make it far when said back pocket started to vibrate. Great. She couldn’t even enjoy the first minute of her lunch break without interruptions. That would be too much to ask for apparently. Cursing god or whatever people believed to be out there, her fingers had picked up, before she could think twice about it.

Her characteristic “Decker” rung through her speaker only to be outdone by an enthusiastic “Detective!” that caused her to jerk her phone away from her ear. She sighed, trying to be annoyed, but his obvious good mood seemed to make it impossible, even if he most probably just popped her ear drum.

“Hey, Lucifer”, she answered instead, forehead creased, still not quite sure what he wanted from her, “What’s up?”

“Which precinct are you a part of?”

“What?”, she was sure her face displayed a myriad of different emotions the most prominent being the typical, confused _what the heck?_

_“_ Which precinct do you work at?”, he repeated, his accent heavy as he emphasized the words slowly.

“94th, why?”

“Mhm, I was just wondering that if you have your lunch break and if I am in vicinity that we could have lunch together?”, his voice raised hopefully at the end, while he was obviously trying to sound nonchalant. The fond chuckle that left her lips, seemed to grasp his attention all the more. “Please, detective?”

“Miss me already?”, she grinned instead.

“Always”, was the swift and straightforward answer, that made her stop in her tracks, because she wasn’t sure anymore whether he was just teasing her or he’d meant it. She shook her head. She was being stupid. He was obviously reacting to her banter.

“Well, are you somewhere in the area?”

Her teeth found the inside of her cheek as she waited, her heart stupidly and unnecessarily accelerating.

“Let me just check. One second” For a while it was quiet between the two of them, only traffic and the perpetual bustling of the city filled their silence.

“94th, that’s Meserole Avenue, isn’t it?”

“Correct”, she hummed absentmindedly as she left the precinct and stepped put into the brimming city.

“I think I could make it in a little more than 10 minutes, if you can wait that long?” Chloe quickly checked her watch.

“Sure, but y’know what? I’ll just find us a place and wait there for you. I don’t have that much time. Is Italian good?”

“Marvelous, Detective! I’ll see you shortly!”

“Bye, Lucifer”, she smiled despite all the bullshit going on. She didn’t know why, maybe it was his joie the vivre, maybe it was the teasing that she missed so dearly with Ella not being around; she didn’t know.

She hung up and let her feet lead her towards one of her favorite restaurants that she visited when she had a little more time to spare during her break. It still wasn’t a lot, but it’d suffice for a quick lunch. Her stomach growled and she yearned for pizza and Ella. She missed the bubbly forensic scientist’s company. They’d grab lunch together and talk about the case or their neon party raincheck or Magret, Ella’s bathtub-chicken. She simply missed a friend that she could talk to. Maybe she was trying to fill the gap Ella left with a very British and equally extroverted Satan, but who knew?

The smell of garlic and olive oil made her mouth water and lured her into the small restaurant that she had become a regular of. Despite the low prices, the quality was unbelievable and it was perfect for the days that she didn’t have time to pack herself lunch. She knew she should probably get back into the habit of lunch prepping in favor of her relatively meager budget. But well, too late for that today.

She sent Lucifer the name of the place and sighed happily. Her stomach gave a yearning growl and she couldn’t even remember what she had eaten for breakfast. Had she even had something before she left the house? The frown that had embedded itself on her forehead melted away, as she waved a quick hello towards Andy, who grinned brightly at her from his place behind the counter, while she slumped down at the chair that she always sat at. Her shoulder leaned comfortably against the window’s broad pane while her feet swung a little above the ground on the barstool. She rested the files she had been carrying on the table, looking up with a smile as her trusted companion wiped his hands on his apron, that hugged his round figure lovingly, and waddled towards her.

“Decker!”, he crooned, “what can I get my favorite enforcer of the law today?”

“Well…”, she started with a smirk.

“How much time have you got?” The mischievous sparkle in his eyes always reminded her of the times at which her Dad would crack joke after joke for her to gasp for air between hysteric laughter, stomach hurting for days afterwards.

Even though she hadn’t been in New York for long, he knew, that the duration of her lunch break decided over her choice of dish.

“The full half hour today”, she said, unable to keep the smirk of her lips, “I am still waiting for a friend of mine, but I’ll get a sparkling water and Chicken Alfredo.”

“Oh, are we self-indulgent today, Decker?”

“It’d appear so”, she shrugged, pulling her casefile towards her. He eyed them with a meaningful look on his face but knew better than to admonish her for it.

“Chicken Alfredo, coming right up”, he said, joy evident in his voice, “You wanna order something else for your friend?”

She raised her eyebrow at the suggestive undertone the word _friend_ carried.

“No, nothing else”, she answered, rolling her eyes, because of course he’d take it that way. He could team up with Ella when it came to her love life. Thanks, but no thanks. Why was it so hard to understand for people on the outside that all she wanted and needed right now, was a friend? Well, at least _Lucifer_ did. That was really all that mattered.

She bowed over her case file as Andy made his way back to the kitchen. She swept the blonde curl from her face and couldn’t suppress the annoyed sigh. It must have fallen out of her bun. Normally her hair would be contained in a tight ponytail or a strict braid, but somehow that had escaped her notice today. She couldn’t even be bothered to fix the mess of a updo on her head, which was why her nerves were coiled tight from brushing the loose strands out of her sight for the nine hundred and eleventh time. This case had her mind churning and rotating. A stabbing with the murder weapon at the crime scene which would have indicated a crime of passion, as the knife belonged to the victims block of knives in the kitchen, yet there were no fingerprints at the whole crime scene. The spouse had been at work, alibi confirmed and none of the neighbors had heard anything. The toxicology report had still to be completed, checking for poison or sedatives, but until then she hit a dead end. But what if –

“Detective!”, the ring of his voice and the bell at the door indicated his exuberant entrance snapped her out of her trance. Of course, he’d continue to call her that. His long legs ate the ground as he made his way up to her, the light grey of his suit jacket accentuating his broad shoulders, while his perfectly styled hair, all dark and no strand out of place, left her jealous. Why couldn’t the chaos on her head behave? A bright grin lit up his face, dark eyes gleaming with barely concealed joy.

“Hey Lucifer”, she said, snapping her file shut as he took seat opposite of her, “How are you doing?”

“Famished”, he answered, “but great otherwise, how could I not be with that company?” She caught his wink and rolled her eyes, with a small groan, even though the corners of her mouth tugged upwards.

“Charmer”, she tutted, sliding the menu over the table, “Right, choose quickly, I have to be back at the station in 20.”

“Workaholic much?”, he flipped through the pages, while he flashed her a cheeky grin.

“No, it’s called being on time, Lucifer”, she rolled her eyes, people’s disregard for rules bothered her more than it should.

“Not that you’d know”, she added, barely containing her grin. He jerked his head up and stopped pondering over pasta dishes to throw her an offended look.

“Pardon me?”, he gaped, clearly exaggerating, “That was clearly all your urchin’s fault.”

Now it was her turn to stare.

“How could that have been Trixie’s fault exactly?”, her forehead creased in irritation that itched underneath her skin. Her monkey was her kryptonite. And if she sometimes transformed into an overreacting and raging lion mother protecting her cub, well, she wouldn’t apologize for that.

“I had to choose a treat that would be of her liking! Do you know how many different types of chocolate cake there are? I mean, nougat or double chocolate fudge? How would I know? So, yes, the urchin’s fault.” 

The flames soothed down in an instant, replaced by a warmth that spread through her entire being and she couldn’t help but deadpan, “Yes, such difficult decisions.”

“I see what you did there”, he sighed, a tiny pout forming on his lips, “Very well you party pooper. I think I’m gonna get the _Spaghetti con Gamberetti e rucola.”_

The way the words rolled smoothly over his tongue sent a shiver down her spine. Who would’ve thought that man could pronounce Italian dishes like a native? She felt heat rushing into her cheeks but tried her best to suppress the blush that fought its way upwards. Well, that was that. Shaking her head she did her best to dissipate the warmth on her face and took a sip of her water.

She had been so submerged in the specifics of her case that she hadn’t even realized that Andy had already brought it over. The latter saved her from her probably evident embarrassment as he popped out from seemingly nowhere, placing oil and bread in front of them. The smell along was enough to make her mouth water and her stomach exclaim excitedly. She skillfully dodged the Andy’s suggestively jumping eyebrows and focused on the white deliciousness that her fingers plucked from the basket, while Lucifer placed his order.

“Do you have a sauvignon blanc to go with the shrimp?”, his dark eyes scrutinized the other man with barely concealed anticipation.

“I’m not sure, but I’ll see whether I have some in the back, son. I need to place a new order, we just run out yesterday evening. Big family get-together”, he explained apologetically, before turning to head back to the kitchen, but not without stopping at the table next to them chatting animatedly with the woman and her little boy, who was chewing contently on his stuffed tiger’s tail. She missed Trixie already. It was only lunchtime and her Monkey probably had a great time in school with her newly found friends. (she wouldn’t stop talking her ear off about Sandy and her golden retriever puppy and whether they could get a puppy as well. In their tiny, 500 square feet apartment. Yeah no. She loved animals, but absolutely not.)

Even though she loved her job, grizzly murder scenes and reeking gore sometimes got too much and she wanted nothing more but to cuddle up on the couch with her little girl and Miss Alien to watch The Princess and the Frog for the fiftieth time.

“Well”, Lucifer’s voice brought her back from her thoughts, “I suppose I will have to provide the aperitive myself.” He reached into the inside of his jacket to retrieve a shining flask, screwed the lid off and took a swift gulp. Was that-? Her nose wrinkled as it took in the stench of a liquor of some sorts.

“What _is_ that?” She couldn’t stop incredulous accusation from colouring her question. 

“Scotch”, he stated, matter of fact, as if it was obvious and not only two p.m.

“Scot- Lucifer it’s only noon!”, she hissed, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Your point?”, he lifted an eyebrow and tucked the flask back in. Her mouth tried to form words, but instead it gaped at him, speechless. She resisted the urge to massage her temples. Great, he was an alcoholic. Her eyes roamed over his features, that regarded her in turn. If he was, he was a damned high functioning one. He didn’t appear drunk, not even in the slightest. Emotional trauma because he was abandoned by his family seemed more and more likely. Before she could gather her thoughts that were whirling around like a hurricane at the Caribbean coast, two plates were put in front of them and her stomach saw it as its responsibility to speak up loudly.

“Here you go, son, we still had a bottle in the back. Take care of Decker”, Andy’s full lips smirked, wrinkles creasing around his mouth as he set down the wine and she wanted protest, “she tends to keep working while she eats.”

“Excuse me? I am sitting right here”, she was well aware that she was whining, dammit, “And it’s effective!”

How else was she supposed to lift the work load the NYPD put on her plate? Maria did help, the paperwork was split in half , but her partner wasn’t a single mother who needed to make sure to do most of her work was done during office hours so she could focus on her child when she was home.

Lucifer’s gaze never left her as he tutted, ““Such bad manners, Detective, and don’t you worry, Andy, I will take matters in my own hands.”

“That I’m sure of”, the wrinkles around the waiter’s eyes creased even more than they normally did as he had the audacity to throw her a wink, that she answered with a glare of her own, “I’ll leave you two eat in peace.” With that and a clap on the man’s shoulder he disappeared.

“Enjoy your meal, Detective and stop glaring at the poor man like you want to shoot him”, he teased with a genuine grin as he gestured towards her Chicken Alfredo.

Grumbling underneath her breath she begrudgingly lifted her fork and tucked in, savoring the meat that seemed to melt on her tongue. A content sigh escaped her and Lucifer chuckled, obviously pleased with himself.

“Hm?”, she managed through a mouth full of food. His eyes sparkled with mirth as he twirled his spaghetti with his fork.

“Good?”

She nodded with something that was meant to be a grin and told him, after she swallowed, “My favorite.”

“I see”, he said easily, before digging into his own dish.

Her eyes couldn’t help but drop to his lips, that closed around the metal, sucking the spaghetti in, sauce glazing them like gloss, before his tongue darted out to lick it away. It should be against the law to eat noodles _that_ sensually. She shook her head and didn’t even realize that she had reached out for the case file, before Lucifer had leaned over the table and snatched it out of her fingers.

“No, naughty Detective”, he admonished lightly and placed the file next to him, “I’ll confiscate that.”

She rolled her eyes, “Lucifer, give that back. You’re not allowed to look at that.”

“Hm, let me think about that”, he pondered, before smirking triumphantly, “No, I won’t, not until you finish your lunch.”

“Give it back”, her own smile dropped from her lips and was replaced by a scowl as he simply put it on the chair next to him. “I am serious.”

“And I am Lucifer”, he chuckled and she rolled her eyes so hard that she was afraid they’d roll out of her head.

“That was the epitome of a Dad joke”, she groaned and tried to fish her file from the chair.

“I know, and Detective, stop it!”, he sent her a glare of his own as she didn’t cease to scoot back with her chair, ducking underneath the table, “Oh, alright, this is getting ridiculous!” He grabbed the file and flipped it open, “Let’s see what makes this piece of paper so important.”

Horror widened her eyes. Oh no. the Lieutenant would have her head for letting a civilian look at her case file. 

“No, no, no, Lucifer you can’t look at that!”, she whisper-shouted, trying to grab his hand that he easily moved out of her reach, “this is not authorized for the public!”

“I am hardly “the public””, he chuckled and flipped through the crime scene pictures with mild interest written across his features.

“You’re a civilian!”

“Ah, I see”, he sighed, shutting the file and held it out to her. Her heart was still beating out of her chest, while her cheeks heated up furiously. Out of embarrassment over her attempt to crawl underneath the table or the agitation over him stealing her crime scene pictures. Crime scene pictures that he didn’t even flinch at as he continued eating with gusto.

“So, you think the spouse did it?”

She gaped at him. “What?”

“Well, according to your notes and the fact that she had access to the apartment and the still missing toxicology report, it could be that –“, he shoved his spaghetti into his mouth, chewing. How had he grasped the whole construct of her case that fast? With her brows furrowed confusedly, she took the collection of papers from him and put it carefully into her bag. “What was I saying? Yes, she might have poisoned the poor chap and stabbed him, discarding the gloves she was wearing and then went back to work.”

“But she does have an alibi”, she sighed, continuing her own meal, “How did you even read all that that fast?”

“I read rather quickly”, he said absentmindedly chewing his shrimps, washing down the rest with a sip of his wine, which’s glass was adorned with shimmering drops of humidity that fogged where the ivory liquid touched the walls.

He read rather _quickly_? Speed reading? Who was he? The Flash? Or could the devil speed read?

She shook her head and watched him out of the corner of her eye as he twirled the spaghetti around his fork, while his other hand played with the ring on his finger. It wasn’t fair that he’d just wanted to join her for lunch and she didn’t focus on anything else but work.

“I’m sorry”, she sighed eventually, “I didn’t mean to be like that.”

“Hm?”, he looked up with his head cocked questioningly.

“With the case. I get a little short sided when it comes to work.”

“Oh really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Haha”, she deadpanned, but continued, “No, really. I’m sorry.”

“It’s quite alright, Detective.”

“No it’s not”, she denied, “It’s just, back in LA, I’d take my paperwork home with me and work on that when Dan was playing with Trixie and now I’m alone and I try to not work when she’s home, because that wouldn’t be fair to her. But I can’t get everything done at the station and yeah, I just want to make sure that I get everything done.”

He smiled at her, genuine and understanding and she could have shuddered with relief. “I know. As I said, it’s alright.”

“So, to get back to your spouse that took a trip to stabby town.”

They spent the rest of the ten minutes that she had left to finish her break throwing theories around, along with a side of banter and pasta. It had been a while that her lunch break had been somewhat enjoyable and more than mere wolfing down her food, engrossed in getting justice for some poor soul.

A smile grazed her lips as she gathered her bag and bid Andy goodbye, who threaded his hand through his greying strands and shooed them away. He knew how Chloe hated being late. Lucifer held the door open for her and followed her soon after. His presence behind her radiated safety and trust when her gut would have categorized everyone else as a threat. With everyone else her mind would scream at her to be wary of the looming, intimidating tall man that probably was considerably strong, strong enough to overpower her, even with her martial arts experience and the police academy’s combat training. Instead she relaxed her shoulders, turning towards him with a soft smile curving her lips upwards. 

“Thank you”, she said, looking up to meet his gaze. Why did he have to be that freakishly tall?

“The pleasure was all mine”, he grinned down, dark eyes sparkling with mirth.

“So”, he clapped his hands, “Am I allowed to escort you back to the precinct?” How could she say no to his expectant imitation of a puppy that wanted to be taken for a walk. She really had to learn to resist that look on his face. But what was the worst that could happen?

“Sure”, she said and reciprocated the happy expression lighting up his features, “Let’s get moving. I really don’t want to be late. But well”, she suppressed a snort, “I can always say the devil made me do it.”

His laugh made it impossible to keep a straight face and soon she was chuckling along side him.

They strolled along the street, satisfied to simply walk next to each other, only to throw quips at each other from time to time. When they arrived, her mood dropped a little. She hadn’t enjoyed herself that much in quite a while and she really didn’t want to return to her desk in that uninspiring building. Not that she wasn’t grateful for the opportunity to work with the NYPD, it was a great honor for them to reach out to her all the way to LA, only to work with her, but the precinct certainly wasn’t the prettiest. It made her miss the open space of the old one back home.

“There we part ways”, she sighed dramatically, a smile playing with the corners of her mouth.

“Well, I could still come with you and see where and how you work”, he suggested, perking up at the thought.

“Uhm, no”, she said, her brows knitting in amusement.

“But why not, Detective?”

Did he seriously just whine? She shook her head and resisted the temptation to roll her eyes.

“Because this is a police precinct and you are a civilian.”

“But I bet there are plenty of civilians in there.” He gestured at the young man, tattoos climbing up his skin, that just left through the glass doors.

“Yes, but those are either victims, suspects or witnesses, Lucifer”, she explained in her best Mom-voice, of which she knew that it always worked on Trixie. And well, now that he acted like a stubborn child, it was worth a shot. 

“So, no one else can get in there?”

“Yeah. Because that’s kinda the point. Maybe civilian consultants as well, but –“

“Uh! _I_ could be a civilian consultant!”, his face lit up with glee and pride at the idea, while she shook her head franticly. That would probably turn into a disaster.

“No. Absolutely not”, she said, her voice stern, “Lunch was great and I’m glad we did this, but I gotta go.”

“Right… so did I, Detective. Have a good day detecting! I’ll see whether I can talk to the Lieutenant about the consulting!”

“No, you won’t”, she protested, her eyes wide with horror.

“But the devil and the detective has quite the ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Goodbye, Lucifer”, she snorted, unable to hide her amusement, “get to where ever you have to safely.”

“Call me, Detective”, he grinned brightly as she waved him over her shoulder and slipped through the door, glancing back to see him watching her, hands shoved in the pocket of his matching light grey suit pants, his stance relaxed. He was a dork. Civilian consultant, her ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will probably take a while as it's a longer one than this little nugget^^


	5. A booty call and the Douche

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A phone call late at night only to have a new case in the morning that demands Chloe's attention. 
> 
> Ft. Detective Douche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, it didn't take that long after all XD 
> 
> there you go peeps another chapter, let me know what you think! 
> 
> lots of love
> 
> If you want to chat with me about the progression of the further development of Eden's playground and its sequel or in general want to know more about my editing progress and updating schedule you can contact me on Instagram @esh_es_writes!
> 
> I'm pretty active there, so if you have any questions or remarks hmu!^^

The chase of the spouse taking a trip to stabby town had taken up the bigger part of the week – longer than expected, for even Maria had nearly tossed her nerves. Chloe’s clothes stuck uncomfortably to her body, dried sweat itching her skin. The streetlights gleamed in orange hues and so did the sky, a narrow stripe of dust ridden night unraveled above her, as she slipped into the building. Her legs felt heavier than they normally did when she climbed up the stairs, hands padding her pockets for her keys. Jingling ripped through the silence of the staircase when she unlocked the door. She shoved it shut with her foot, before dropping her bag onto the small table in the entrance. Padding feet sounded through the small apartment and brought a smile to her lips.

“Mommy!”, Trixie collided with her legs and her arms encircled her almost instantly. God, it felt good to have her in her embrace, warm, safe and a part of her.

“Hey, my Monkey”, she cooed and pressed her even tighter against her torso as she sunk down. Her nose buried itself in her dark curls and inhaled the scent of home and shampoo, “Have you been good for Kelsey?”

Her daughter extracted herself from her arms and nodded. “Yep. We were watching Find Dory.” Trixie glanced back to the young, slender woman, that had followed her out of the living area, a bag slung over her shoulder.

“Hey Chloe”, the soon to be teacher smiled at her.

“I am so sorry, we were held up. I hope it hasn’t given you any trouble”, she grimaced apologetically and managed to get up just so, without an exhausted groan. She hated it when the perps started running away. As much fun as chasing the bad guys could be, it would be so much easier to just shoot them in the leg so she could just apprehend them. But no, of course that was against the rules. Great.

“No, all good”, she assured her, “I studied for a bit and prepped for the next exercise, so it didn’t bother me at all. Trix wanted to stay up and wait for you though.” Kelsey’s light eyes sent her a meaningful glance.

Chloe understood all too well. She had always camped at the couch in their living room when she had been young and her Dad had been at a stake out.

“That’s fine, really. Thank you again. I’ll add the extra hours to the next payment, okay?”

“Yeah sure”, she smiled and ran a hand through her hair, “Well I’m gotta get going. See you Trix, sleep tight.”

“You too”, the little girl yawned, rubbing her eyes.

“Get home safely”, Chloe said, her brows knitted worriedly, “And I’ll give you a call when I know when I need you.”

“You do that and, yeah I will!”, with that the young woman was out of the door and silence encompassed the apartment. The exhaustion hit her like a train and seeped deep into her bones. All she wanted was her bed and her daughter and a shower.

“Have you brushed your teeth, Sweetie?”

“Yeah, can you read me a story, Mommy?” Her small arms came around her thigh and she had to suppress the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

“Of course, I can, but just one chapter, alright? It’s a school night.”

“Okay”, with that and a yawn so big it could have swallowed a bear as a whole her monkey padded up to her room.

Her clammy fingers threaded through her tangled waves and she let out an annoyed sigh. The shower would have to wait. Stripping her jacket and slipping out of her boots she crossed the living room, well more like the eating area that housed a couch and a TV. Her socked feet slid over the parkette and a soft smile stole its way onto her lips. This was what home should feel like. When she sat down next to her daughter’s bed, flipped the book of the little prince open and started reading, her voice low and soothing, the world could have ended in that moment and she wouldn’t have cared a bit.

The minutes melted into each other as they traveled alongside the little prince (not only during one chapter, but two) drew sheep and spoke of faraway planets that would later turn out to be asteroids, but when her fingertips wiped softly across the last page she would read, her little darling had already drifted into sleep. Her gaze soft and her heart full, no overflowing she brushed back an errant lock. She hadn’t known that it was possible to carry that much love for one single being inside her. 

The move hadn’t been easy, not for the both of them, the divorce hadn’t been easy and yet her fierce daughter had managed just fine, had found new friends and hadn’t lost her gleeful grin, the spark in her eyes. No matter how much Dan had fucked up, Trixie still loved him, still wanted to reach out for him and if that was what she needed, then she’d be the last one to deny her that wish.

She had had to master life without her Dad after he’d been shot in a robbery gone wrong and she missed him still. Everyday. Even sixteen years after his death, she missed him. She couldn’t do that to her own daughter, not when Dan was very much alive. As long as that meant that she herself didn’t have to see him again, she was fine with it. He had backstabbed her, not Trixie. With a heavy breath Chloe got up, pressing a last kiss to her forehead, smoothing down the cover, before she got up and left the room as quietly as possible.

The shower had made her muscles loose and warm as she sat huddled in her flannel pajamas and her impossible cozy knitted cardigan on her bed. Dan had hated it on her, the colorful pattern that adorned the black had been too loud, _not very Chloe-ish_ , as he had phrased it. One reason more to divorce him. _Detective Douche_. A smile crept along her lips. Wasn’t that the truth? The lunch with Lucifer felt like it happened weeks ago and a sudden wave of longing washed over her, glistening and bright. She just wanted to hear his voice, banter and laugh with him, talk about nothing of importance and just feel… well something other than exhaustion and melancholy.

 _Call me_ , he had said, he had offered, but the nagging voice that was her subconscious told her to stop being so _needy._ She hadn’t planned on doing that so soon, but it couldn’t hurt, could it? Her teeth tugged at her lips as she pondered. He probably had to work, but if he was occupied, she could still hang up, right?

“Fuck it”, she grumbled and unlocked her phone, searching for his contact.

Her finger hovered over the call button, still unsure. _Was_ this too needy? They had just had lunch this week and she really didn’t want him to think that she was giving him a booty-call. That wasn’t her, especially not after Dan and – and Lucifer knew that. She would not let her ex-husband of all people stop her from reaching out to a friend, dammit. She pressed call.

Her heart obviously hadn’t gotten the message that this was just a platonic call, to check up on him, to talk a little. It drummed rapidly in her chest, skittering excitedly. She barely avoided the typical Decker eyeroll. She was being ridiculous. The steady beeping broke through the silence, while her fingers toyed with the hems of her cardigan. _Beep. Beep_. Maybe he wouldn’t pick up. Maybe she should just leave it. _Be_ -

“Detective!”, his rich accent filled the small room, bright and welcoming. Chattering and music blurred in the background, as glass clinked and feet shuffled around. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

His voice raised, as a loud laugh tore through the lively atmosphere. The noise yet seemed to ease away, a door opened and shut with a distinct sound and she couldn’t help but feel gratitude welling in her chest. He was working and yet, and yet he made sure to shove its responsibility aside and create a little pocket of time for her. Dan had never done that, aside from maybe the beginning and she couldn’t help the smile that her lips formed, as she leaned back against her bed’s headboard.

“Just wanted to check in with you”, her voice no less warm and pleased than his.

“Oh, I see”, his smug smirk danced in front of her inner eye, “Is this a booty call?”

She snorted at his teasing undertone. “Definitely, Lucifer. What else?”

His chuckle made her feel light and the tension bled out of her shoulders.

“No, I just wanted to tell you that our theory checked out. The spouse sedated him and then paid off someone at her workplace to confirm her alibi. We chased her down a few hours ago.”

“Well _done_ , Detective.” Bafflement stole her tongue at how pleased he sounded, at how he seemed to vibrate with pride. “Are you sure that I shouldn’t pursue a career as your civilian consultant?”

Her fingers toyed with the hem of her blanket, as she shook her head, her hair pulling itself loose.

“Yes, very sure, Satan”, she confirmed.

“Pity”, his heavy sigh sounded exaggerated, even through the speaker. She took the liberty to just listen to his breathing, before she cleared her throat.

“So… you’re at work?”

“Hm”, he piped up as if he had been lost in thought himself, “yes, but it’s a slow night, so fret not about my absence. I’m sure Maze can handle the two chaps at the bar on her own and as for the rest… well, they won’t be too bothered to be left alone for a while. If that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Thank you, Lucifer”, she said. Ella had always been sure to take her calls, but the guilt of imposing on her during working hours always gnawed on her, leading her to hang up after a few minutes, even after her friend’s claims that it was alright and that she didn’t bother her at all. And she wouldn’t even try to call her Mom if she suspected her to be on set. She wouldn’t even pick up, that had always been that way. Before and after her Dad died. But with him? He didn’t just chat to her while tending his bar, he stepped away, he deliberately chose to talk to her and the thought alone brought tears of gratitude to her eyes. She was pathetic really, and tired.

“Whatever for?”, he sounded confused.

“For making time for me.” Dammit. Her voice croaked and wavered with suppressed emotions. Great. She just hoped he hadn’t picked up on that.

“Always, Detective. But do tell, what can I do for you this fine evening?”

And the grin found its way back onto her lips, “I don’t know, I just wanted to talk to you. It has been a long day. My feet feel like they’re about to fall off, after the whole suspect hunt.”

“Ohh, so you _do_ get to chase the bad guys.”

“Yeah. It isn’t half as much fun as you make it out to be”, she sighed, “Like, why resist anyway? If the cops are on your heels, it’s kinda obvious that you can’t just outrun them. Why bother?”

Dread continued to creep up her spine and coiled her muscles tight.

“Denial, mostly. Learned about that bugger in my very first therapy session”, his voice dripping with amusement. She let out a little laugh, knowing he couldn’t see her shaking her head. She stretched her legs and buried her cold feet underneath her blanket. She was still not used to how chilly New York was compared to LA.

“Probably. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it can be thrilling to search abandoned warehouses and all, but seriously? My feet are freezing.”

“My poor Detective”, he purred, clearly entertained by her whining, “Seems like a long bath is in order.”

She rolled her eyes, she just couldn’t help it. “I don’t have a tub, for starters, and secondly, don’t – just don’t.”

He _giggled_ and that in itself made it impossible not to break into laughter because to her it was the single most hilarious thing she’d ever heard. That in mind, she sounded like a demented witch when she giggled and sometimes she did even grunt, but still. It took them a while to get their breaths under control, but when she had finally managed to stop hiccupping, she wiped the happy tears out of the corners of her eyes.

“Ahh”, he made, taking a deep breath as if to chase the last bit of laughter away, drinking in the satisfying rush of endorphins, “so, if running after subjects is a nuisance to you and paperwork is a bitch, what is it that you like about detecting then? I mean there must be a reason why you do the job.”

“Well, I get to shoot people for starters.” He barked out a laugh and she could nearly see his dark eyes sparkle with mirth.

“ _Detective_! I am scandalized!”

A snicker left her lips. “And the whole, figuring out who killed the victim is fun, too.”

“But mostly shooting people.”

“Yeah, exactly that”, her voice dripped with teasing mirth.

“You Americans… Your fascination with guns will never cease to amaze me.”

“And what planet are you from? _London_?”

“More like vicinity of Cardiff, but whatever floats your boat”, he shot back, the grin audible, “But no, I am serious. Why do you do it?”

The curious edge in his question made her ponder. He seemed to genuinely care, intrigued even. Her fingers scratched at the edge of her cardigan’s button.

“Well, I guess what I told you is true. I like figuring things out, to make sense of the world. But I also want to help people get the justice they deserve, put the bad guys where they belong.”

“Hell?”, Lucifer suggested.

“Jail in our case, but yeah. Mom wanted me to go down a completely different career path, but when my dad died it seemed like the right choice to become a cop like him.”

“Well, even though I don’t quite get the whole paternal admiration – my dad is a complete sack of arse so to speak – I suppose it makes sense for you. I guess he was a good father.”

That must have been the weirdest thing someone had ever tried to comfort her with, but it was the genuineness in his words that warmed her heart anyway. Who would have thought that the all suave and smooth-tongued Mr. Morningstar would clumsily try to glue together something resembling to empathy?

“He was the best”, she whispered and tried to shove the bittersweet pain flaring in her chest back to where it came from. It was quiet for a heartbeat, before she continued, “So what about your dad? Do I sense hard feelings?”

She _knew_ she shouldn’t have pressed her finger on that particular wound, but it was impossible for her not to ask. She was a detective. Curiosity was basically in her job description. For a second she feared he had hung up as the silence throbbed in her ears. She barely dared to breathe in the quietness of her tiny bedroom.

She flinched as he cleared his throat.

“Ah, well. Yes”, an awkward pause, “I should get back to save Maze.”

The corners of her mouth tugged downwards as disappointment washed over her. Great. She scared him off. Inwardly she cursed at her stubborn nosiness, but what came over her lips was a “Oh, yeah, no, yeah sure.”

“But”, he hastened to say, “I’m glad you called, Detective, sincerely.”

“I’m glad too”, she whispered as she swallowed the lump in her throat and ignored the way loneliness clawed its way upwards.

“Right then, I wish you a pleasant night, sleep well.”

“You too”, her teeth worried her lip between them, “and I’m sorry for you know – I get that that’s a sore topic.”

Again, this unbearable silence. With anyone else she wouldn’t have minded the quietness, but it didn’t fit his usual cheerfulness, the exuberant glee that he radiated.

“No harm done, Detective”, his voice was so soft, it made her heart melt, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Satan”, she giggled at the nickname and sighed in relief when he reciprocated her amusement with a bark of laughter. Her ears picked up the mumbled “minx” before the line went silent.

With a huff she let her hands fall into her lap, her eyes wandering towards the city outside of her window. The orange glow of the streetlight left her bereft, her feet burying themselves deeper into the softness of her blanket. She shouldn’t have asked that. It was obvious that he wanted to have nothing to do with his family, wanted to leave it buried in the past, but well, of course she had to ask. Note to self. Avoid _that_ topic in the future.

_[_ _The devil_ _]_ _he rebelled against his father, yes. He got cast out of heaven for it._

Cast out of _his_ home, he hadn’t said, but it had a shudder ran along her spine. She couldn’t even think about throwing Trixie out, not for the life of her.

How could a parent do that to their child? There was nothing her Monkey could do that would be bad enough for her to abandon her. She didn’t even want to think of it. For Heaven’s sake, she was a homicide detective and would probably rather help her daughter hide the corpse than anything else.

Her mind created the image of a young, lanky Lucifer, screaming at a towering figure without a face, posture defensive and fists curled tightly. The figure - his father - raised his hand, striking down. She’d seen runaways more often than she’d have liked and domestic abuse more often than not tied into the whole story. She knew the bruises that’d form, yellow and black, cuts dirty and crusted from not being treated correctly, she knew the scars the victims carried, faded and angry, obvious and invisible.

Defensive anger. That she could deal with. She could deal with the anger and the hate and the sharp coldness. Hell, righteous fury would burn in her veins at the mere thought of catching the bastards that caused the injuries, the trauma.

She quickly shook her head. Two different points of view, there were always two sides of the coin. Lucifer’s anger probably distorted his, blowing out of proportion. She should stop worrying so much. Maybe they’d just had a major disagreement, maybe his father hadn’t agreed with his son’s sexuality, who knew. She couldn’t draw hasty conclusions, tainted by her growing affection for the man. But at the back of her mind she could still hear how her gut had been screaming at his sudden silence.

\---

Sleep hadn’t come as quickly as she would have liked the night before, but the whole world seemed just right as she inhaled the bitter scent of her coffee mingling with the sweetener she’d put in it. Her forearms were propped up against the kitchen counter, while she shooed her daughter back into her room to get her school bag. A smile curled around her lips as Trixie rumbled in the drawers, whining about not finding the book that they’d been reading.

“On the couch, Monkey!”, she raised her voice, amusement vibrating with it.

“Thank you!”, darting back, sliding on her pink socks across the living area, her daughter came to a halt, shoving the item into her backpack, “Daddy called yesterday.” Happiness glittered in her dark eyes, her tooth gap prominently displayed.

“Oh, he did?”, she did her best to reciprocate her radiant smile, “What did he say?”

“He wants to come visit us sometime! That’s gonna be _so_ awesome!”

“He wants what now?”, she sputtered, tightening her fingers around her cup after they’d gotten dangerously slack. Oh, he must be kidding. He couldn’t tell her that without checking in with her first! There was no way that he could stay with them – not only because the apartment was practically a shoe box – but because there was no way in hell that she’d tolerate him here. He’d have to find an AirBnB or something.

“He’ll come visit, Mom! But he also said that you should call him.”

Of course _she_ should. Not that _he_ could be the one to initiate that conversation. At loss of what to answer to that, she just nodded with a hum.

“Have you got your stuff, Monkey? We have to get going or you are going to be late for school.”

“Yes, Mommy!”, she giggled, letting herself flop down to put on her sneakers, white with unicorns and glitter and all. The little weasel had been batting her lashes at her with a Hollywood worthy pout at the mall, even if Chloe had tried to point out that she already had shoes that looked exactly like this pair. _But the unicorns, Mom!_

“Come on, let’s go!”

With an eyeroll and a sigh she chucked down the last gulp of coffee, grabbed her bag and her keys and hurried after her daughter, who was already out of the door. 

By the time she arrived at the precinct and collapsed into her chair she’d had to go back to the apartment once and missed the subsequent subway to the precinct twice. Little sleep, a rushed morning and now she’d also have to deal with paperwork _and_ Detective Douche. What better way to start her day? She nearly let out a silent whine at the thought of calling Dan. Why couldn’t she just never see him again? Why did he have to be Trixie’s dad? She knew that was more than a little unfair towards him, he was trying after all, but the sickening feeling in her stomach didn’t cease. She didn’t want to talk to him, she wanted him out of her life, to never speak with him again. Her fingers pressed against her temple, eyes closing as she tried to compose herself.

She was never one to cry, never collapsed under whatever pressure the universe decided to burden her with, but right now she wanted nothing more desperately than to crawl into a far corner of the precinct and weep. Breaking down was a luxury she only granted herself in the safe darkness of her apartment, always controlled and on her own terms, but now persistent tears prickled underneath her lids. Sucking in one deep breath, a second and a third, Chloe tried to calm herself. She could do this. She could pack whatever it was that she was feeling into a box in the back of her mind, lock it and throw away the key. She was Chloe Decker - no scratch that. She was _Detective_ Chloe Decker and she could do this.

Squaring her shoulders and straightening her spine she pulled her chair towards her desk, grabbed the report for the Robins case and got to work. At least that would help her be present in the moment and stop her from wallowing in the past like her teenage-self pining over a lost crush. The universe let her have her peace for about an hour, before a voice in front of her startled her out of focus.

“Hey partner, we’ve got a case”, Maria’s husky voice got her up to her feet in an instant, grabbing her badge, her gun, her phone, her keys.

“What have we got?”

“Looks like an overdose, but it could fall into gang related homicides.”

She frowned, because narcotics would normally be the one to deal with cases like this after they had gotten processed and ruled out as drug related death.

Her partner must have picked up her expression, because she nodded with a shrug.

“Don’t look at me like that, the responding officers have run the vic’s name through the database and got a hit. Drug dealer, consuming them himself, got charged at least four times with drug possession. Ecstasy, heroin, opiates in general. Belonged to the _Sabaneras_ , apparently.”

At least not paperwork. Even though she hated losing her cases to another department of her precinct and as disheartening as OD cases were, there was nothing she could do about it.

“Alright”, she nodded, pulling her hair back into the strict ponytail, that had fallen apart, while she trailed after Maria’s dark braid out of the precinct, cursing her long legs. How was she supposed to keep up with her? Not that she was all that small, but Maria was rivaling a giraffe when it came to height.

The examination of the crime scene lead to little but the stench of death and people they had to contact. Track marks at the crook of the victim’s arm indicated recent drug use, but they’d have to wait for the post-mortem examination and the toxicology report in order to know more. There had been no sign of struggle or forced entry, spoons and syringes were found.

The roommate still hadn’t contacted them and Maria had left her desk to find someplace that Leia Michaelnova could be at. All that she could do was go through the vic’s file and try to find possible connections to other drug dealers and suppliers that she could call and invite in for an interrogation. Her fingers spun one of the pens between them as the vibration of her phone tore her out of her focus.

Absentmindedly she picked up.

“Decker.”

“Hey, Chlo.”

_Fuck_. The blood froze in her veins, then it started crawling underneath her skin. His voice was the same, still the same as before. Before everything had gone down the drain, still soft, compassionate. _Liar_. **_Liar_**.

“Don’t call me that”, she snapped, unable to come up with anything else. Her heart throbbed achingly and her gut churned and churned and she felt sick. Taking a deep breath, she realized she was getting up and heading down the hall towards the parking lot. She couldn’t do this with her colleagues around her.

“Alright”, he sounded dejected, “hey, Chloe.”

“What do you want?”, she managed to steady her voice, when those damned tears brimmed in her eyes again.

“I don’t know whether Trixie already told you, but I’d like to see her.”

“Yeah, she did.” She leaned her body against the cold wall, the back of her head held by the cool concrete.

“So?”

“So, what, Dan? What do you want me to say to that?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Chloe, something? Yes, no, maybe not now? I am her father. I have a right to see her.”

Her chest tightened uncomfortably.

“I know. But how did you imagine that working out? My apartment has barely enough space for Trix and me.”

“I can stay at the couch, it’s no problem.”

“I don’t _want_ you to stay at the couch”, she hissed. She didn’t want him in her home. Or in her life, but that was apparently too much to ask for.

“Okay”, he drew out the vowels. How dare he act hurt at that? How - ? Her gut lurched and she swallowed down the nausea. “I’ll find a place to stay then. I could have her over at my place then for a while.”

She shook her head, defeated. What was she supposed to say? He was right, she couldn’t keep their daughter from him, or Trixie from her dad for that matter.

“Okay”, she hated how pathetic her voice had to sound, “When would you plan to come over?”

“I don’t know yet”, he hesitated, “I’ll have to save up for the flight, you know, money’s a little rare after my demotion.”

The way he emphasized _demotion_ provoked the rage that had been cowering in her chest.

“Don’t you _dare_ blame that on me”, she growled at her phone, “Malcom is on you, Dan. Everything that happened and that resulted from it is on _you_.”

“Yes, I know. And I can’t tell you how sorry I am for what happened”, he did sound genuinely remorseful, “But Chloe, you could just have dropped it, then the whole thing wouldn’t be an issue when it comes to my relationship with Trixie. You could’ve had my back on that.”

“ _I_ could have had your back on it? You _lied_ to me. You lied to me for _months_! You made me the scapegoat of the whole precinct! I had to deal with the whole shitstorm that came with the investigation! I was right about him being dirty and no one believed me, because of you!”, her voice resounded way to shrill from the narrow corridor’s walls, “ _You_ shot him, Dan. You shot him and made me believe I was crazy for investigating it! You were the one variable that I couldn’t figure out and you made me believe you were _helping_ me. So, don’t you”, she swallowed the harsh lump of desperation and anger down, “don’t you dare blame that on me.”

Tears escaped the confines if her eyes and trailed down her cheeks, hot and furious and she wiped them away.

“Right”, he clearly took a breath to respond something to that, but she cut in, keeping her voice level and detached.

“Text me when you’ll be arriving and where you’ll be staying.”

Without a further word she hung up. Silence rung in her ears, drowning any thought that her mind produced, drowned her and time froze. Barely conscious of sliding down the wall she’d been leaning against, she pressed her palm against her breastbone in a fruitless effort to control her breathing. She couldn’t afford to break down. She couldn’t show weakness, not now, not here. No matter how much it hurt, she needed to shove it down, shove everything down and compartmentalize. She was Detective Chloe Decker and she would not break. It didn’t matter that it still hurt and that she didn’t understand how he could have _done_ that to her and that she had loved him. Another breath calmed her frantic heartbeat as she swallowed and brushed back her hair. Right. Work. Everything else could wait. Breaking down could wait.

And she didn’t break, not through the research of the main suspect, of the Robinson case, not when she picked up Trixie and prepared a bowl of cut apples and plucked grapes for them during their game of monopoly, not when she read her another story, when she sat on the fuzzy carpet in front of her Monkey’s bed. Only when she could be sure that her daughter couldn’t hear her because sleep’s arms held her tightly, she retreated to her room. Chloe sat down on her bed, the small light on the bed side table glowed conspiratorially, winked at her as if to say, _This says between the two of us, it’s okay._

Only then did she release the tight grip on her composure for tremors to shake her body, for her palm stifling the broken sobs that threatened to escape her mouth while trails of despair brimmed in her eyes and flowed down her skin in hot salty rivulets. Now she was only Chloe and she _did_ break as she sat in the orange glow of the city so far from what used to be home and wept.


	6. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A death disguised as an overdose and an inkling of fun for our favourite detective^^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guys, this chapter is a little shorter than the one before - or the next one for that matter^^
> 
> We get a hint at the case Chloe has to deal with and of course a little dose of Ella^^ I generally don't write case fics, but then again, here we are XD 
> 
> I just want to thank everybody who is reading, commenting, bookmarking and leaving kudos, you guys are the best!
> 
> Y's Gawen comes from the word ysgafn, which means light in Welsh^^ btw
> 
> I hope to keep up the speed of my updates because I've got to work in August and I wanna get this done beforehand XD
> 
> but if you want to know more check out my Instagram account @esh_es_writes
> 
> (alright that's enough advertisement, here you go!)

The following week her skin didn’t brim with suppressed pain, her mascara didn’t leave black tracks on her skin, her eyes didn’t burn with lack of sleep. Instead she’d be up early enough to sit at the cold rails of the fire escape, the china of her cup warming her fingers, to look at the already busy street below her apartment. Her tiny flower sat next to her, stretching its limbs to catch the rays of early morning sun and listen to the cars’ engines and hushed voices of strangers passing by. She’d sip her coffee until only a thin rim of black liquid remained at the bottom, then get up dressed and to get Trixie and herself ready for the day. She’d be sure to pack lunch for the both of them, something she had wanted to do for a while now.

The victim of the Sabaneras overdose had been high on heroin but had something in his blood that they couldn’t identify along with a carbon monoxide poisoning that no one could really explain. So much to a case for narcotics. The roommate raised additional suspicion as the woman had lawyered up as they had contacted her.

"I mean, why would she disappear and then waltz in here, all lawyered up if she hadn’t something to do with his death, you know?”, she gestured, her fingers massaging her temples. Her partner leaned her backside against the tiny desk, filled to the brim with files that she might work through at the weekend. Andy would definitely disapprove. As would Lucifer. _Lucifer_. She hadn’t talked to him in a while, but she had definitely had other things occupying her mind. She still felt bad for bringing his father up and guilt nagged in her subconscious as he hadn’t even left her a text since their call, but he was an adult, for heavens sake. He had friends and a therapist; he would be fine. Shaking her head, she refocused at the dark-haired woman’s words.

“I couldn’t agree more. But she’s coming in later this week to give a statement.”

“Great”, she sighed, “and until then? I mean, we’ve already tried to find out more about his connections to the _Sabaneras_ , but it’s gonna be hard without _some_ input by someone close to the victim.”

“I know, Chloe. I already talked to Fred in forensics, but he can’t explain or yet cannot explain what the substance in his blood is. It consists out of three chemicals, but he hasn’t found the connection between them yet. But he’s positive that the vic hadn’t had enough heroin in his system for an overdose. He also has nothing on the origin of the CO, but that there is a clear adhesion of it to the vic’s erythrocytes. He’s sending the coroner’s report back to get it checked out again, though”

There had been no alerts by the carbon monoxide detector in the whole complex and they even double checked the levels in the flat again.

“Alright, but if it is true, the drugs were laced with something. And as heroin relaxes the respiratory tract and slows down the whole metabolism, maybe the oxygen supply didn’t suffice anymore because the CO hindered the uptake even further.”

“Could be worth a shot”, Maria nodded, “But I mean this is so fucked up. what if the dude really just died from some unfortunate coincidence?”

Chloe frowned, “I don’t believe that. I mean sure, he could have caught the CO somewhere else, but what are the odds? Maria, there was no fricking carbon monoxide found anywhere in the apartment complex and the other substances in the toxicology report? No way that’s a coincident. And lastly, Michaelnova. I mean, that woman has lawyered up faster than I could blink. There’s no way she has nothing to do with it. “

“You’re right. What if someone has gotten him to inhale the stuff? Like some asthma spray or an oxygen mask?”

“But then someone else must have been in the apartment.”

“Right, but nothing was out of the ordinary, no forced entry, no fingerprints.”

“Aside from his roommate.”

“Okay, so that’s something we could check again.”

Chloe nodded and put it down.

“Is there anything left of the heroin he took?”

“Nope. Spoon and needle have been cleaned.”

Maria’s eyes squinted in suspicion, “Even though he was high and supposedly overdosed?”

She nodded as her gears in her head kept turning. There was very little chance that it could have been the victim that cleaned them after he had shot up the heroin. She was done sitting and waiting for something to happen.

“We should go back and check again”, Chloe said as she got up from her seat, “I mean sure, the roommate is the leading suspect here, but maybe there was something else, because this looks like someone is covering something up.”

“Let’s go partner.”

She really missed Ella. She would have brightened up the whole investigation with one of her quirky jokes and surely _she_ would have found something. Something useful, like at the scene of the crime. Not that she could blame Fred, she was sure he was doing his best, but no one beat Ella at the whole forensic-scientist stuff. Her jaw clenched and relaxed as she collected her things, attaching her badge and gun to her belt and holster. The leather jacket hugged her shoulders protectively as she got up and marched out of the precinct with a mission, Maria on her heels. Her gut told her to be wary, to be vigilant.

The possibility alone, that someone was out there, lacing heroin with something poisonous other than the usual fentanyl or carfentanyl sent shivers down her spine. Not that heroin on its own wasn’t bad enough already. Whatever was happening needed to be stopped, before someone else could get hurt.

As they made their way back to the scene of the crime, Chloe in the driver’s seat with her partner riding shotgun, she dealt Ella’s number.

“Hey, Decker!”, the latter’s cheery voice sounded through the cruiser after the second ring. She truly loved her.

“Hey, Ella!”, she responded unable to ban the silly little grin from her lips.

“How is it hanging girl? Any progress with the handsome, British devil fella?” Her lids closed for a split second in embarrassment as Maria let out a husky chuckle. Great. Way to go, Lopez.

“Uhm, no, _no_ , Ella”, she cleared her throat, desperately pushing the heat back, that climbed up her neck to the roots of her hair.

“Oh, man, Chlo! I told you, don’t take it so seriously and get some.”

“ _Ella_!”, she hissed, “I am on my way to a crime scene and I need your _professional_ opinion on something.”

“Yeah, Chloe, get some.” The dark eyes of the woman next to her sparkled with mischief and mirth, a sly smirk dancing across her lips. She groaned.

“Not you too!”

“Uh, sorry!”, a high squeak reverberated through the car as it came to a halt at the red light, “I didn’t know someone was with you!”

“Oh, it’s fine”, Maria cut Chloe’s protests off, “Finally we meet, Ella, I’ve heard so much about you! I’m Maria, Decker’s partner.”

“Hey girlfriend! Is she still stuck up? I thought moving would do her some good at least.”

If the grin that split Maria’s face was anything to go by, the whole affair could take longer than anticipated. She barely listened to them as they bantered along, apparently her non-existent love life offered enough to criticize for three days straight. She shifted gears maybe a little more aggressive than she would have wanted to and butted in.

“Ella, I need your input on a case and it’s important, so can we please focus?” She glared at Maria who had the nerve to wink at her.

“Sure! Sure, sorry Chloe! You got it, aaaall work now. Shoot.”

“Okay, so”, she gathered her thoughts, “We have a vic injected with heroin that was most likely laced from what the toxicology report shows, but out lab tech doesn’t know to make of the substances. Spoon and needle were cleaned so we’re thinking that someone did that to cover up the substance the heroin was laced with and we have carbon monoxide poisoning with no carbon monoxide in the whole building or his line of work.”

She paused to make sure Ella had grasped the details of the case.

“Got it, go on.”

“No forced entry or any of the sort, roommate has lawyered up. Now the question is firstly: How did the carbon monoxide get into the victim’s system and secondly if it wasn’t the roommate, who was? We cannot be too sure of her involvement at this point, even though it’s suspicious. Any thoughts on that?”

It was quiet for a while, before the forensic scientist spoke up again, “So you said there are substances that your lab tech can’t piece together in the report, that can be the remnants of the chemical used to lace the drug, right? It changed its composition, reacted all that shebang. The carbon monoxide could be picked up from God knows where, but also split of during the reaction of the unknown compounds, but I mean… carbon monoxide is a product of CO2 combustion that would mean heat and burns and whaa! Pain! But well. Also a possibility though.”

“Alright, good to know. We’re double checking with the coroner at the moment, whether it was really CO. But thanks. Any thing else?”

“I mean, is the rest of the heroin paraphernalia there? Cotton balls and all that?”

Maria’s brows furrowed, “We need to check on that again when we go over the evidence.”

“Right, so check on that and I mean maybe the neighbors have a key, that sort of thing. Even if they don’t and there are no signs of forced entry, lock picking is something they teach in middle school so…”

“Alright, we will just go through the apartment again and see what we can find, maybe there’s also a hint to whom he got his supply from.”

“You do that guys, but I I gotta go, because Monroe has my head if I don’t get going, y’know everything’s been craycray lately, but Maria!”

“Yes?”

“Do me a favour and go out with Decker before her hair turns grey. I mean, my abuelita has more fun than her.”

“Hey!”, Chloe spluttered. She had to talk, she wasn’t a single mother! “I do have fun.”

“Really?”, her partner’s dark and perfectly kept eyebrows rose up to her hairline in an indignant motion. A vehement nod should be answer enough, but it clearly didn’t satisfy her fellow detective.

“Yeah, I have lots of fun”, she drummed her fingers against the steering wheel, “Actually, I am going out this weekend. You know, like fun. With a friend.”

She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. She groaned internally. Why did she say that again? That was not how she’d intended this conversation to go. She could practically feel the blood rushing up to her cheeks.

“What! Decker! Is it with Mr. British-probable-sex-god-guy?”, Ella’s squeal nearly burst her eardrum- again. Her eyes widened slightly at that.

“Yeah! Yeah exactly, I’m gonna pay him a visit you know?”, she nodded hastily.

“With the whole tends a bar thing?”

“Mhm, exactly, but Ella, we need to go, so –“

“Oh, yeah, sure. Don’t forget to check for the security cams! Like I know, you probably already did, but yeah, I’m off.”

“Bye Ella!”, Maria gushed, “It’s been lovely to meet you.”

“Same, girlfriend! Same! And Decker, I better-“

“Yes, I’ll call you, thanks and bye.” The line went silent and they came to a halt. Chloe leaned back against the head rest, breath escaping her with a sigh. The poor guy didn’t even know what would hit him.

They hadn’t found much but a few notebooks and a calendar that they confiscated and it turned out that the neighbor opposite to the apartment did indeed have a key and the opulent woman had no qualms to let them in, talking their ear off about how the two would never turn down the music even if she banged against the door. Chloe decided against a snarky comment and just appreciated the fact that some people didn’t ask questions. 

Now her head rested on her elbow as she fiddled with her phone, tiredness blurring the precincts bustling into an ocean of noise. The only thing between her and the weekend was the interview of Leia Michaelnova tomorrow and then she could finally, finally relax. A glass of wine and cuddles in front of the TV, as much pasta as she wanted. And of course, _fun_. It wasn’t that she couldn’t _have_ fun, but for once she wished to be less competitive. Why did she even have to react to Ella’s remark? But then again, she’d been wanting to drop by Lucifer’s work anyway, so no harm no foul, right? She’d just ask whether Trixie wanted to sleep over at one of her new friend’s place. She’d love it and if she could stay with Sandy she’d even be able to pet their new puppy. Even if she would never hear the end of it.

She sent a quick text of to the girl’s mother, before opening the chat window with Lucifer spelled out above it. Pondering her teeth tugged at her lip. This was ridiculous, she would just let him know, it wasn’t a big deal.

**Hey** **** **I’d come over tomorrow night for drinks, if that’s alright with you? You’re working?**

That’d do. With a sigh she put it aside, ignoring the fact that she was secretly waiting for him to text back, for her phone to vibrate. A night out with a friend would do her good, even better if said friend was tending the bar. She’d finally meet Maze, because she couldn’t deny her curiosity that liked to ogle at everyone and everything. The devil tended the bar with the demon from hell. That’s what he’d hinted at on their first date. What did that even mean? What did that say about Maze? She flinched violently out of her thoughts as the device next to her finally told her: _he texted you back, stop overthinking Decker._

_Detective! Coming to check up on your favourite devil, are you? ;)_

She smiled at that, unable to suppress the eyeroll.

**Sure, what else^^ so are you?**

_Yes, of course I am! From 8 pm to 4 am at Y’s Gawen._

**Okay, great! I’ll tell you when I drop by!**

_Without the offspring, I presume._

Yes, the offspring. Would he ever stop calling her that?

**No, Trixie’ll be staying at a friend’s place, I am all yours. ^^**

_Fantastic! I am looking forward to it, Detective!_

**I’ll see you, Satan.**


	7. Leia Michaelnova, 28, roommate – prime suspect?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interview of the room mate

Leia Michaelnova walked into the interrogation room the next day, flanked by her lawyer and adorned by a thick fur jacket, while the metal wrapped around her fingers glistened in the sterile light. Chloe took a seat with her partner, sharing a quick glance with Maria, who seemed to surpass the urge to roll her eyes. Flipping the file open she fixated the woman, eyes slightly narrowed, features calm, yet her jaw steeled to bring the truth to light. She ignored the excitement that wrestled with the curiosity inside her chest.

“Leia Michaelnova?”, she asked, following the exchanged look of the woman and the suit beside her.

“Yes”, accent hung heavy in her words as she held her chin high, “That is me.”

“You immigrated two years ago from Russia, is that correct?”

“St. Petersburg, yes.”

“Alright, what was your relation to the victim Marco Sanchez?”, she continued her questionnaire, brows furrowed only slightly. Maria’s presence next to her was soothing as the woman leaned back, unabashedly scrutinizing the pair opposite of them.

“Uhm, he was my roommate. I study at the Institute of Fine Arts and when I first came here I needed a place to stay.”

“Alright”, Chloe nodded and continued, brows furrowed, “Where were you on Wednesday between 5:30 and 7 pm?”

“Uh, I was at the library with a friend, the one in Lincoln center?”

“Okay, I would need the name of this friend to confirm the alibi for us.”

The woman complied and Maria threw her a little glance. Her compliance was very unusual for someone that had refused to talk to them the minute they had called. That much they had found out themselves. Maria sighed and leaned forward.

“So, what were you? His girlfriend? His friend? Adversary or acquaintance?”

“I… friend, I suppose”, a scowl flashed over the aristocratic features, “I did like Marco, he was a nice man, even if he got himself into trouble sometimes.”

“Define trouble for us, please”, Chloe cut in. Dark eyes rested on her, deep and cold.

“Well, I”, she hesitated, glancing at her lawyer, who just nodded at her for her to continue. “He did drugs sometimes”, she ground out, clearly unwilling to elaborate any further.

“You seem to know more than that. Why are you protecting him?”

Silence met them, along with a clenched jaw.

“What does the name _Sabaneras_ mean to you?”

Observing how the woman’s eyes widened slightly, before she managed to school her expression again, Chloe leaned forward like a K9 on a mission.

“Ms. Michaelnova, listen. We want to find whoever is responsible for Marco’s death. We want to know who laced the drugs he took, but we cannot do this without your help. You clearly know more than you let on, the fact alone that you’ve brought your lawyer speaks for itself.”

“My client has nothing to do with his death, Detective Decker”, Mr. Smith, of course that was his name, sharply interrupted her.

“Well, that might be true, but the front you’re putting up says otherwise.”

“Marco had relations with them”, the Russian woman cut in, “He dealt drugs for them, did them, but nothing more. He wasn’t violent. He needed money”, her vehement voice carried the urgency of what it meant to need money, of what people did to make money and survive. “He studied alongside, but was never good at it, had loans through the roof. I told him not to get involved with those people, that they were no good, but why would he listen to me?”

“Do you know which drugs he took on a regular basis?”

“I mean he smoked weed, took coke and heroin, but that not so often. I told him it was no good”, her barriers had dropped in an instant and the brown of her eyes showed the pain of loss, of grief, “I swear, I tried to get him to stop doing drugs, but he wouldn’t listen! And then I came home, saw the police and I knew it must’ve gone wrong this time.”

“And yet you ran, why is that?”

Mr. Smith tried to cut in, but with a gesture of her adorned hand, rings sparkling, he rolled his eyes and leaned back.

“When I came here from St. Peterburg I was, I was running from trouble that my family had gotten into. Listened to a friend of mine and came here. I know to contact my lawyer before the police can get me.” Steel in her voice.

“Who did Marco get the drugs from?”, Maria continued.

“He had some friends, Blake and Ben it was. Ben Riley, but I cannot remember the first’s last name, I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright, but if you do, please contact us.”

“Is this interrogation now finished?”, the lawyer sighed, clearly annoyed.

“Only one last question”, Chloe sent him a smile, a hidden _shut up, man, “_ The CO detector that is installed in your apartment and did it go off sometime? If yes, did you contact your landlord about?”

“No”, the woman drew the vowel long, “I mean we have one and I’m sure to check it ever so often, but no. Didn’t go off.”

“Alright”, Mr. Smith pushed his chair back and got up, “this will do, won’t it?”

Stupid lawyers and their non-existent patience. “Yes, it will for now”, she said, rising to her feet, “You have been very helpful, Ms. Michaelnova. If you remember anything else, please contact us and do not leave town.”


	8. Visiting her favourite devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe finally has the chance to go out for drinks and meets her favourite devil ;) again and we get a teeny tiny glimpse into Lucifer's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go guys! I really loved writing this chapter and I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it^^
> 
> Chloe is btw wearing the dress that she wore to the auction of Lucifer's wings in the series  
> for those of you who are wondering

She toed of her shoes in the hallway, kicking them aside and finally slumped down on the couch with a happy sigh. Trixie had just been delivered at Sandy’s place and in a split second been gone to cuddle the puppy. (To be fair, it _was_ adorable.)

The apartment was empty and quiet and it was just her, no one else. Pure bliss, if someone asked her. She put her head in her neck to glance at the clock on the bookshelf. She had two hours before Lucifer’s shift began, so a little longer for her to get there.

A happy smile danced across her lips at the possibilities. She could take a long shower, lather her skin in the scented oils and creams that she never got to use, put on some good music. Stretching her arms above her head she felt her vertebrae pop in satisfaction, before she got up and made her way to the bathroom. Maybe fun was exactly what she needed as an excuse to take care of herself. Humming under her breath she got herself a new towel - one of the fluffy ones that Trixie always used. The water cascaded only moments later down her limbs, gently massaging her muscles, for her to wash her hair and rinse the shampoo out of it.

She hadn’t been out in ages if the drinks with Maria a few months back could be excluded. Ella had always made sure to drag her to a bar or into some other kind of stupid fun, that she’d never think of on her own, but with the whole Palmetto fiasco and the divorce the nights out had gotten less as well. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and interrupted the steady patter of drops on the skin, before stepping out to wrap herself in luxurious softness. Her body patted dry and her hair wrapped up in a towel she sat down on Trixie’s stepping stool that helped her reach the cupboard over the sink. Screwing open her body butter she spread it silkily over her legs, skin absorbing the rosehip oil due to the past week’s dryness. Fiddling with her phone in the other hand she turned on some music, clicking past the advert, before the soft tunes of Eternal flame echoed in the small room.

Mouthing along the words, she continued to cover her feet, her tummy, her arms and chest in the scent of lemon grass and elderflower, of a rose garden filled with lush petals and herbs. Her fingers danced across her stretch marks, waves of white scar tissue across her hips and abdomen, across the marred connective tissue a grazing bullet had left. She still remembered the pain, the fear that had gripped her entire being. She’d just discovered that she was pregnant with her little Monkey when their perp had opened fire. A shudder ran along her back. Trixie was safe. She probably was just getting squished by a mass of fur and love. The vibration of her phone ripped her out of her trance. Frowning she picked it up and couldn’t stop the grin spreading across her face when she saw the text.

_When can I expect your arrival, Detective?_

Accompanying Zhane with her maybe not so glorious singing, she answered.

**Around 0830 pm : D**

She put her device away and got up to let her hair dry and get something to eat, before she’d raid her closet. In her bathrobe she padded across the living area to the kitchen to reheat the pasta they’d had yesterday. Maybe she should try different recipes. Something exotic like curry or maybe Asian noodles with bamboo sprouts? Pondering she leaned against the counter and waited for the microwave to finish.

The rest of her free night was spent eating pasta in her bathrobe on the couch, a book in her other hand, doing her make up humming along to _Ice, Ice baby_ , while wiggling her butt along to the rhythm, leading to her reapplying her eyeliner twice. Finally, her hair was flowing over her shoulders in waves of spun gold, lips painted in a bold shade of red, while her light eyes sparkled with mirth.

Her small off duty Glock snuggled contently with her purse and phone in the big pockets of her leather jacket, that complemented the black lace of her dress. She hadn’t worn it in ages. Her cleavage accentuated by the v-cut and long sleeves hugged her arms. It showed quite some leg, but not enough to feel ridiculously uncomfortable in the subway. She put on heels that she could easily run in – it all came down to practice – and flicked off the light. Mentally preparing for cat calls she locked the door and made her way to _Y’s Gawen_. Interesting name for a bar, but well, who was she to judge.

Three rude comments about her skirt length and a few stations next to the stench of alcoholism later she stood in front of the bar, the contently shining sign inviting her in. She rolled her shoulders, nervous bubbles in her stomach for whatever reason and let out a breath. She didn’t get it. It wasn’t like she never went out for drinks, but somehow this was different. It was different, because it was Lucifer and he had to work. She was in no mood to sit around like a lost puppy, while he’d be busy tending his bar. But nevertheless, it was nothing she couldn’t handle. She was Chloe Decker and she got that. Straightening her shoulders, she lifted her chin and pulled open the door.

Alcohol and tobacco hung in the air, coaxing her softly to come further in into the dimly lit inside. It was nothing and everything she expected it to be. Her feet carried her down the last few stairs, fingers dancing across the golden rail. The long bar stretched along the wall, elegant and black stone illuminated by a hidden rivulet of glowing light where the counter met the front. A few people sat in groups, laughed over the calm music in velvet cushions and in the middle of the room stood proud a piano, polished and well loved. His name could have as well been written across the wall as this place belonged so intrinsically to him, connected to him so strongly. She had never recognized a person in a place, but there she was. Whisky’s earthy hues shone on their display in crystal decanters and flasks, no crude and flashy liquids, just mellow colors melting into each other, polished surfaces meeting brass to be humbled by the warm lights.

Her eyes swept along the bar over the few individuals, sitting there like strung up pearls on a thread, before they met dark orbs. Eyeliner sharp enough to cut oneself at and leather hugging muscles tight as skin, smooth like dark caramel, flirted with the cutouts of the fabric. The woman’s painted lips curled into a smile, rows of shining teeth showing as she set down the glass she was drying and leaned her head towards the back. That must be the _Maze_ that he’d mentioned a few times.

“Lucifer, your friend is here!”, she called, loud enough for Chloe to hear.

Her feet carried her towards the counter, still unsure of how to proceed as a dark haired head appeared next to the bartender.

Confusion knit his brows together, but as soon as his eyes found her figure his expression lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Detective!”, he exclaimed happily as he made his way to her, “Don’t _you_ clean up nicely?” His appreciative gaze lingered on her legs for a moment, before snapping back up to her face just to meet her smirk.

“I’d tell you the same, but that must be what dressing down looks like to you”, she stated at his shirt and waistcoat, white and coal, sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Tztz, Detective, I am most disappointed in your manners. Is that how you reply to being so wonderfully complimented?”

She’d love to wipe his shit eating grin from his lips, but all she managed was an eyeroll and a “Yeah, Satan. Can I have a beer?”

The woman behind the counter snorted amused at Lucifer’s indignant gape and expertly slid a bottle over the counter for her to catch.

“I like her”, she chuckled.

“Thanks”, Chloe grinned and lifted the rim to her lips to take a sip, but not before she threw him a wink. That caused him to shut his mouth, a sly grin forming.

“Aren’t you a little rascal, Detective?”, he released a put upon sigh, “The things I put up with.”

“You poor thing”, she giggled, unable to contain her mirth any longer. His lips twitched while he glanced at her.

“Well”, for a moment silence hung upon them as if neither of them was sure of what to say.

“So, I take you’ve met Maze”, he said, nodding his head in the direction of the quite honestly a bit intimidating looking woman.

“I did”, she responded, nipping at her drink, “Better bartender than you from what I can tell.”

Lucifer snorted, forearms resting against the counter as she slid onto the stool, her legs dangling a little, before she crossed them.

“In her dreams maybe”, his British accent stuck out more now that they bathed in an ocean of New York’s slang.

“Mh, I see”, she chuckled, brushing aside her lock, that wouldn’t stay behind her ear, while his eyes followed her finger’s path.

“You do look lovely, though”, his voice more earnest now, his brows knitted slightly.

“Thank you”, she shook her head with an eyeroll, “I actually had some time for myself. That hasn’t happened in ages.”

“Oh, that’s _it_! That’s why you’re so radiant!”, he excitedly pointed his finger at her, “I mean you’d glow even more after my services – quality _and_ quantity, Detective – but an orgasm is an orgasm.”

_What_. She gaped at his gleeful expression, words lost to her. Did he just-? Oh, whom was she kidding, of course he did, Mr. King of Innuendos couldn’t keep it to himself. But two could play that game. Blush hid in the dim light of the bar as she laughed, one of the timid ones, the ones that hid more than one would expect.

“Uhm”, she said, teeth tugging at her lower lip as she leaned forward a bit, “yeah, you know, it has been such an exhausting week and”, a soft smile on her lips as she shifted her body towards him, “you know. I just needed to _relax_.”

His torso gravitated towards her at his purr, “Oh, please do, Detective. I am all for giving into your desires.”

Oh, this _was_ fun. She glanced at him from under her lashes, fingers reaching out to toy with the soft fabric of his collar.

“Mhm”, she paused, releasing a light breath, “you know, and”, an unsure smile this time, “I couldn’t stop thinking…”

“Yes?”, his remark barely above a breath as he zeroed out on her, eyes dark and plump lips slightly agape. A hum vibrated in her chest as her gaze flickered towards his lips and she had to try her damned hardest to suppress a self-satisfactory grin as he swallowed lightly. She held his eyes, hers sparkling with mirth and he looked downright adorable with the little confused frown between his brows.

“Do you really steal people’s souls?” She pulled away, her grin spreading as she leaned back and him following her, expression blank, before realization dawned on his face.

“Tease”, he pouted, yet an impressed smile tugged at his lips, “Well then Detective, since you decide to leave not only me, but also yourself completely unsatisfied, we should get back to more _boring_ topics that you seem so fond of.”

She snorted into the neck of her beer, “Yeah. Solving homicides is _terribly_ boring _._ ”

“I vividly remember you complaining about not being able to shoot at your suspect’s leg whenever you please.”

“That is not what I meant! I just said that it would be easier that way.”

“Oh, excuse my lack of distinction, Detective.”

“You are forgiven”, she stated nonchalantly, yet smirking nevertheless.

He just snorted at that and mumbled something dangerously resembling _as if,_ before he turned toward Maze, who was mouthing something.

“Darling, I’ll be right back to chat with you about murder, I’ve got to work. _Dreadful_ , I know”, he winked at her and then he’s disappearing between the patrons, moving like he truly was connected to this place, knowing its pushes and pulls, never shy to joke and chat with the admiring female – and admiring male – visitors. She leaned back against the counter as she watched him, surprisingly at ease right where she was. The place had wrapped itself around her in a matter of seconds, all soft melodies and rich scents on her tongue; had wiggled its way into her heart as he did. His eyes sought her out ever so often, mischievous winks thrown at her that she fended off with an eyeroll of her own. 

A breath near her ear made her whirl around in her seat, hand instinctively seeking out her hip, where her gun normally sat, only to find herself eye to eye with Maze. Her heart hammering in her chest she let out a breathy laugh.

“Damn, you startled me.”

“It doesn’t end well.”

“What?” What was _that_ supposed to mean?

“I see the way you’re looking at him. It never ends well. He isn’t one to get emotionally attached.”

“What?”, she looked at her incredulously and the way the sharp darkness of her eyes flickered between the two of them, with something that she would nearly describe as wistfulness.

“Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I consider myself warned”, she slowly responded, “even if it is really not necessary.”

A short nod before the leather clad woman pointed at her empty bottle. “You want another one?”

“Yeah, thank you”, she smiled at her as she put another one in front of her and disappeared to her other patrons.

She avoided the small groan. Yes, she wouldn’t lie, Lucifer was attractive, he was funny, he was charming. But she did not want a fling, she did not want a relationship. All she wanted, all she _needed_ was a friend. Someone she could relax - no, not that kind of relaxing - and be herself around. And she could. It had never come easily, damn it, _friends_ had never come easily to her. She’d always been the one to march on her own through hallways in high school and through police academy. The few people that did hang out with her and that seemed to enjoy her presence were not allowed a glance at the full range of her character, only carefully selected sides and colors. Even Dan, whom she’d been married to, had only gotten to see the badass cop and the soft mother, with a side of dry humor and kindness. Occasionally the flirt that she apparently was had escaped her grasp and had played around before she caught it again and put it away. Yet with _him_ it seemed as easy as breathing.

To let him see it all, the flirt and the fun side of her that normally only came out to play when she’s drunk. The lioness that stood in front of her daughter, willing to tear the world apart to keep her safe. The witty detective that solved homicides. The soft Chloe. The part of her that no one ever saw, insecure and with healing scars. Within days he’d torn down her defense, assured her with and without so many words that he could handle it all. Surprisingly it didn’t really bother her, because deep down she knew that her secret, the entirety of pieces that made her _her_ was safe with him.

Maybe that was the reason why she hadn’t already found out every little detail about his past yet. She trusted him, with all the innuendo, sincerity and flaming passion that had women and men alike fall down to their knees in front of him. Now she trusted him enough to be patient until he felt that he could reciprocate the sentiment and open up to her. Even if he _wasn’t one to get emotionally attached_. It didn’t even come as a surprise, because whatever had happened with his father and his family had undoubtedly left its traces carved into his soul.

“I could hear you thinking from over there”, the devil in question said right next to her ear.

“Hm?”, she startled out of her thoughts, “Sorry, I got a bit lost up there.”

“I could tell”, a raised eyebrow, an invitation. As she didn’t take him up on his silent offer he continued, not even a smidge subdued, “So, tell me about your week, Detective. Solved another homicide, have you?”

A sigh escaped her. “No, unfortunately not. The one we’re dealing with now is a hard nut to crack.”

At his Cheshire cat grin, she quickly added, holding up her hand, “No, don’t say it!”

“You’re such a party pooper, Detective, but the things I do for you.”

A snort escaped her as she took a sip from her beer, the glass cool from the condensed water on the outside.

“But continue, we stopped at homicide.”

“It’s just”, she bit her lip, unsure about how much she could actually reveal without crossing the line of divulging sensitive information. Gang related cases were to be handled with utmost care. But really, what harm could it do?

“The victim had laced drugs in his system, heroin to be exact, but something we can’t really identify, along with carbon monoxide, which makes no sense at all.”

A frown knitted his forehead along with a bitter tug around his mouth, while he drummed against his elbow, which lead to his swirling tumbler, if one followed it upwards. “Carbon monoxide? A gas leak?”

“No, we have checked that. There’s nothing we can associate it with, it’s, well… I can’t place it”, she shook her head, annoyed by the fact that she couldn’t figure it out, “something is missing.”

He hummed, fingers toying with his own tumbler of scotch. “What’s the other substance found in his system?”

“We can’t really say yet”, she sighed, “We think it’s a new kind of drug, but so far we’ve come up empty on the forensic side.”

His eyebrows wandered upwards. “What kind of useless imp do you have in forensics? I mean it’s not that hard to find and identify a new drug. You must update your contacts, Detective.”

She gaped at him, before snapping, “Right, say that a bit louder so I have to arrest you for probable connections to drug rings!”

“Oh, did you bring your cuffs?”, she wanted nothing more than to wipe that salacious grin off his face.

“Lucifer”, she hissed over the music, “You better pray to God that my colleagues won’t come to check on this place, if-“

“Chloe, relax”, he snorted, gulping down the amber liquid, “you wouldn’t find anything on me, you have my word.”

The sudden mention of her name from his lips took her aback for a second, but suspicion crept up her spine, nevertheless.

“I mean it. If-“

“I’m clean”, he cut in and she paused, taken by surprise. His dark eyes held hers, sincerity shimmering in them as he continued, “I haven’t touched any kind of drug in the last decade, Detective. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t.”

Her thoughts raced as her glance flickered towards the drink leisurely held in his hand, clear eyes and the faint scent of tobacco that lingered on the collar of his shirt. It seemed that his past had left worse scars than he would let anyone see. But he let her.

“Oh”, she said, not really knowing what to answered to that. A soft smile found its way onto her lips as she caught his gaze and her fingers brushed against his, trying to convey her appreciation, “okay.”

His lips curled upwards in what can only be described as tentative as his thumb swiped across her skin.

“Well, I can hardly get you to have fun from inside a holding cell.” Right, back to deflection.

“Mhm”, she snorted, rolling her eyes and let the bustling background noises fill the silence between them as her eyes swept across the bar again and caught at the grand piano shining mischievously in the middle of the room, people clearly refraining from getting too close as if a protective spell inhibited from doing so.

“What’s it with the piano?”, she found herself saying, light eyes finding his more than intrigued.

“Whatever do you mean, Detective?”

“I mean”, she gestured towards it, “is it just for decoration or is there someone who plays it?”

“I beg your pardon”, he sounded clearly affronted, “the Steinway? A mere prop? Detective, what do you take me for! Of course I play it.”

“Oh, you’re kidding me. You play the piano?”

Lucifer outright scoffed. “Of course, I do.”

“Show me”, the words blurted out of her mouth before she could intervene. “I – just if you want to, like, you know…”

His grin just spread wider and wider with every little stutter of hers. “ _Detective_ ”, he all but drawls, “all you had to do is ask.” With that he was up on his feet and tugged on her forearm, urging her along.

“Come on”, his boyish glee was infectious and mere moments later she was seated right next to him on the narrow bench, white and black in front of her, clear and structured. The chatter around them subsided a bit as they spotted them at the piano. The tall man next to her stretched and shook his fingers, before he turned towards her.

“What will it be for you, Detective? You have the devil at your melodious service.” He flashed her a charming grin. Suddenly very unsure of herself, she blushed, biting her lip.

“Whatever comes to your mind.”

“Very well”, he nodded, something flitting across his face that she couldn’t quiet decipher, before he put his fingers onto the keys. Her mouth dropped open as he broke into an upbeat piece, fast paced and happy so at ease - he could as well have been breathing instead. She could see his grin from where she was seated and _finally_ she realized what he was playing.

“George Michael? Really?”, she laughed.

“ _Cause I gotta have faith_ ”, he crooned, throwing her a wink. Because of course. The _devil_ had got to have faith.

She swayed along to the melody, not able to wipe that smile of her lips. And then the impossible man started singing and she could have sworn that it would’ve knocked her off her feet if she hadn’t already been sitting down. His voice rung through the bar, the perfect mix of throaty notes and raunchy lyrics that swept through the whole room in a wave of rhythm and in a wildfire the pop song tore through the audience. The man next to her reveled in it, pouring music straight from his heart, thriving like a fish in water and her heart swelled at the sight of it. She wished that she could bottle this moment and keep it forever.

This man must have been through a lot, a past of drug addiction and a family history that made her shudder, even if she didn’t know what had happened. The way he tensed and fell silent when the conversation turned to them, spoke louder than shouts ever could. And yet this was he had chosen to do with his life. While other people would have given up, he had clearly fought. He had told a ladybug to have a safe trip and explained to her daughter that it wasn’t okay to displace one’s frustrations onto other people. He had brought her monkey chocolate cake at what he had at that time believed to be their first date (maybe it had been just that in an unconventional sense). Now he was sitting next to her, putting so much joy into this piece of music even as the last line echoed and finally died and the patrons of the bar broke into applause.

“That was amazing”, she breathed and grinned up to him. She had to have the same stupid grin on her face, eyes glowing brightly.

“Thank you”, he hinted a bow that made her snicker, “What next?”

“Can you do the Bangles?”

He played and oh, how he played. Forgotten were patrons that had to be tended, forgotten was the mess that ought to be her case over the last week. There just existed music and them, laughs and exchanged puns, that had the two of them snorting into their drinks.

The construct of time faded into nothing and only when she felt her lids getting heavy and found them dropping every once in a while, she acknowledged that it was getting late. So did Lucifer as she yawned again and barely kept her head from dropping against his shoulder.

“Well, it seems it’s time for all good detectives to go home.”

“Mhm”, she made, not wanting to get up. The haze of alcohol, sleep and the warmth he radiated hugged her loosely and she only realized that her eyes fell shut again, when she heard fabric shifting and felt the soft caress of fingers along her upper arm.

“Come on, darling”, he purred lightly, “Let’s get you home.”

She hummed something, not wanting to leave. Why did she have to leave? It was warm and comfortable and –

“Detective, as much as I appreciate your sleep and drunkenness induced affinity to physical touch, it’d be much appreciated if you got you beautiful behind up from the piano bench so I can call you a cab.”

That made her look up to him.

“A cab?”

“Yes, exactly. Come on”, he flashed her a grin and helped her onto her feet before offering her his forearm. With a grateful glance at him she took advantage of it as they made their way through the crowd.

“’m sorry, I monopolized you”, she mumbled when they got closer to the door.

“No need, darling. Maze and Patrick had it all under control.”

“Mhh, tell Maze I said bye.”

“I will do that”, he chuckled and pressed the door open, fresh air hitting her face and with a few deep breaths she was awake.

“You know”, she started, “I can just take the subway, it’s really no problem.”

“Absolutely not”, his tone didn’t leave room for arguments, “it’s my treat, Detective.”

“Lucifer”, she protested, “I can’t let you do that. I mean, I didn’t even pay for my drinks and I feel badly enough about that by the way.”

He waved her off. “Psh. Just let me do this. I had a lot of fun tonight, so let me at least express my gratitude for your company.”

She sighed, disarmed by his earnestness. “I can’t let you spoil me, tough”, she added after a short pause, a warm smile on her lips.

“Why?”, his eyes sparkling with mischief, “I could be your Sugar Daddy.”

She groaned, “No. Just. Absolutely not.”

“Spoilsport.”

“I swear, you have the maturity of a five year-old.”

He snickered.

“See”, she gestured, crossing her arms as they made their way along the pavement, “That’s what I meant.”

Silence filled the pause after his snort.

“I meant it, tough. I did have a lot of fun tonight. Thank you for coming by, Detective.”

“What?”, she smirked, “No joke about me coming?”

He shook his head with a fond grin.

“But”, she looked up at him, gaze soft, “I had a lot of fun too. We should do this again sometime.”

“You’re welcome to stop by anytime. I don’t care when. Could be noon too, I am around most of the time”, he tripped over his words and she chuckled when he cringed at himself, “I mean, after all I _am_ your favourite devil, aren’t I?”

He leered at her, while he stretched his hand and let out a sharp whistle.

“That you are”, she sighed, “but yeah, I’ll see when I got some free time. I’m glad we did this.”

“So am I, Detective.”

A car pulled up next to them.

“I believe, this is your cue.”

Chloe nodded, turning towards it, before whirling around to him hastening after her and pulling open the cab’s door.

“Thank you, Lucifer”, she smiled and stretched on her tip toes. Carefully she placed her lips onto his cheek, stubble scratching lightly against her skin, his scent hugging her with all its spice and nuances. When she rolled on to her heels and took a step back, his eyes found their way to hers, wide and surprised, while his mouth hung slightly agape. After a heartbeat his lips curved into a smile, a soft, genuine one, his gaze unbearably reverent.

“Well”, he cleared his throat and the moment broke, “let’s get you home.” She got into the cab and waved as he shut the door close with a small thud.

“Get her home safely, will you?”, his voice was honey and shards as he produced a wad of cash from heavens knew where and handed it to the driver. He turned and grinned at her.

“Have a good night, Detective.”

“You too, Satan.”

She could hear his snort even over the engine and finally the car pulled away, leaving his tall figure behind on the pavement. She could have sworn he waited until the yellow cab had woven into the slight traffic and was out of sight to return inside.

The city danced in brilliant colors and flashy neon lights in shop windows through the orange hue of night as they moved past and her chest filled with the _wonder_ that she’d lacked before. She had moved across the country into an unknown city, something she longed to explore, now that whatever the past few months were was over. Trixie was still someone she had to consider, but then on the other hand – she was free to do whatever she pleased - all within the confines of law and time restraints, sure – but nevertheless she could. There was no one telling her otherwise, guilting her into believing that her secret dreams and wishes were nothing more than a mere flimsy figment of her mind’s own creation. Hell. Life was hardly like Pretty Woman or one of those Netflix productions playing _Always forever_ in the background while a young, single woman straight out of college drove over the Brooklyn bridge in a yellow cab akin to the one she was sitting in now. Life was seldomly about the adventure of finding one’s true love and a gay best friend that happened to be a designer and gave one a make-over in Chanel and Prada and suddenly all problems dissolved.

It was about wiping sleep out of the corners of her eyes at 5:30 in the morning and getting out of bed to wake Trixie. It was single motherhood and living in a 500 square feet apartment which she still had to work overtime for. It was stale coffee at the precinct and blood and gore.

But it was also seeing her daughter’s eyes light up at the end of the day when she told her about puppies and Mars. It was breathing in the scent of blossom and soaking up rays of sun on weekends. It was having enough time on her break to enjoy Andy’s Chicken Alfredo. And apparently it was also laughing with a newly found companion that named himself after the devil sitting next to each other at the piano.

To be completely fair, life as Chloe Decker had been introduced to it sucked. With the overgrown child that her mother was and the neglect that had come and gone with auditions that she had to attend rather than her daughter’s play at school. The murder of her father that had ripped the floor underneath her feet and the loneliness that had followed had eaten a hole deep into her core, which she had to crawl out of on her own. Friends had never stuck and her comrades at the police academy had looked at her as if she’d been scum on the sole of their shoes aside from a few exceptions. She had never been taken seriously and as much as it had left her feeling like dirt ground under someone’s heel from time to time, it had made her strong. There had been no knight in shining armor, there had been no dragon to defeat and there had certainly been no damsel in distress, because if there was one thing she refused to be, to become, it was someone that needed to be saved. She had done a damned good job on her own, really.

To serve and protect. Not only the city’s citizens and her daughter, but also herself.

The car came to a halt in front of the grey facade of her apartment complex.

“This is it, right?”, the driver asked with a polite smile that he probably showed all of his customers, while shadows lay deep underneath his eyes.

“Yes”, she grabbed her clutch and swung open the door, “thanks a lot and have a nice evening.”

“You too, lady.”

With that she got out on the street and wrinkled her nose. Nope. No clear mountain air, just evidence of the neighbors throwing their raw meat residues into the wrong bin. Fiddling with her keys she got in and climbed up the stairs. She truly did question her endurance a lot lately. The blueish light of her phone screen illuminated the stairway that intensely that it bordered on sheer aggressiveness, even if she had dimmed down her display back in _Y’s Gawen_ when she checked her text messages for Trixie’s name.

Finally, she entered the dark apartment. The sense of home embraced her and any unease and alertness fell off her body. She quickly slipped out of her heels, her feet exhaling with relief, and padded through the flat to get herself some water. She’d have to take off her makeup and maybe eat something before she went to bed. It wasn’t that late – well, maybe for school night standards. She had built up quite the resistance over stakeouts and paperwork. All-nighters were hardly a problem, but she had to care for Trixie on her own now, so she could have none of that. It was probably better for her health anyway.

Chloe slid under the covers, the fabric sliding silkily along her legs and for a moment she considered. She was alone, no daughter that could interrupt her, no duties or places to be. As her hands slid down her body, exploring in the darkness of her room, who could blame her if she imagined broader hands travelling across the soft skin of her belly, her inner thighs and finally down where she needed it the most and a rumbling voice, heavy of British accent praising her name?


	9. Reach out. It's okay.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Check in with Ella and her bottomless pit of support

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you so much for your comments and your support I can't tell you how much that motivates and uplifts me. (was that proper grammar? we will never know XD)
> 
> For those of you who are struggling: 
> 
> It's okay to reach out to people, it's okay to need help. you're not a burden to your friends or family. 
> 
> It's something that I have to get better at too, but no matter whether we think "We should be fine" sometimes we're just not and that's okay. Reach out. It's okay
> 
> And I have to say, I am quite fond of the "one short chapter and a long chapter after one another" scheme^^ might keep that if it fits what I have written

The week had just begun and Monday already got on her nerves. Ben Riley – the drug dealer the victim had his supply of and whom they had yet to interrogate had apparently disappeared from the face of earth over the weekend, Trixie had thrown a temper tantrum over a puppy and on top of that her phone rung every thirty seconds if someone asked her with someone wanting something from her. Maria hadn’t pestered her yet with questions about her weekend, but she was sure that that was something she’d have to deal with after her lunch break. Just as she sat down at a bench outside, her phone vibrated. With an annoyed sigh she picked up.

“Decker?”

“Hey, girlfriend”, never had she been that relieved to hear Ella’s voice.

“Hey, Ella”, she sighed, unwrapping her sandwich, “what’s up?”

A happy laugh sounded through the speaker. “Well, _someone_ had a night out and has not reported yet.”

She snorted, “Sorry Lieutenant Lopez, how dare I.”

“Come on, Chloe! I wanna know e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-ng.”

“Wait a sec”, she bit off the corner of her sandwich. So much to Asian stir fry, “It was nice, we talked a lot and yeah. That’s pretty much it. Not a lot happened really.”

“What?! Nooo, come on, I need the deets! Like, what did you talk about!”

“Uhm”, her skin flares up with goosebumps as she thinks back to his confession, “about my case and we just joked around basically. And well, he played the piano, so that’s that.”

“Wha… Where on earth were you if you got a piano there?”

“He tends this bar, Y’s Gawen, and he has a piano, sorry a Steinway there.”

She has to shake her head in amusement at his indignant tone.

“And? Is he at least decent?”

“To be honest, if that man can do something, it’s playing the piano.”

“Really? That good?”

“Mhm, and singing. His voice, like- it was incredible.” Even to her the amazement in her voice is palpable.

“So, you’re his number one groupie now, Decker?”, a suggestive tone in her friend’s words, “What happened to “just a friend”?”

“What do you mean?”, she furrowed her brow, “we are just friends.”

She ignored the faint blush that crept along her cheeks with a nonchalance that she could normally only dream of.

“Mhm”, okay, then she didn’t believe her, “anyhow, what’s it with Dan and you?”

The bite she’d just swallowed felt like lead in her stomach. “What do you mean?”, she repeated.

“Oh, he just mentioned that he needed some time off to visit you and Trix.”

“Yes, and?”

“Well, are you trying to patch things up again? That’d be amazing Chlo! Like back to the power couple you were! Trixie would love it!” 

“No, absolutely not”, she interrupted her sharply, “Dan is coming over to see his daughter. This is not about reconciliation, this is about him being there for his child. Dan and I will _never_ , not in a hundred years get back together!”

“Oh, so you _got_ the hots for the devil!”

Her cheeks went aflame as her thoughts travelled back to throaty moans and imaginary scruff that’d brush the inside of her thigh and –

“No, I don’t!”, she snapped, “This isn’t about some male figure in my life, but about _me_. He betrayed me, Ella! He turned on me in favor not of the department, but only himself. I got shunned by all our colleagues, so _no,_ this is not about Lucifer, this is about me patching my life back together after what he did.”

Silence was only broken by her pants.

“I’m sorry”, Ella sighed after a moment, “I shouldn’t have gotten you that riled up.”

“I’m sorry, too. It’s just”, she fiddled with the paper of the napkin, “the whole thing with Dan visiting puts me really on edge.”

“Mhm, I get that… but, y’know. I got some vacation time left, so if you want, I could come with Dan to visit you. Like, we could do a neon party!”

Her teeth abused her lower lip. That would actually be nice.

“You would?” Why did she sound like she was about to cry? She would deny that tears of relief and gratefulness glittered in her eyes. she really didn’t know how to deal with Detective Douche.

“Of course, girl! You need me to have your back, so sure. I’ll just press the time frame out of Dan and there we go.”

“Ella, _thank you_. But, if it is a problem, you really don’t have to, but –“ But she didn’t think she could stay sane with Dan here.

“No problem, Decker. Anytime.”

“I love you, you know that.”

“Aww, I love you too, but I gotta go, I’m sorry I just wanted to check in with you.”

“Thank you and get back to work.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that. See you!”

“Bye, Ella.” With that the jaunty forensic scientist hung up the phone and she felt like she could actually survive her ex visiting.


	10. One step forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of Lucifer's past is revealed, we get Lucifer-Trixie fluff and another perspective is thrown into the mix. Also Chloe gets a lead on her case!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where things get a little more angsty, a little more dark in this fic, because apparently I am unable to write long stories without angst. 
> 
> This content is rated mature for a reason. We swerve off into heavier topics, we deal with loss and grief and past violence, past trauma, drug abuse. If you consider any of these things as triggering please read with care!
> 
> If you need help, if you're suffering from a mental illness, a situation of abuse, if you are involved with drugs and other unhealthy and dangerous coping mechanisms: please reach out. Please get help. It is nothing to be ashamed of! Take care!
> 
> I am sending my love out to you all! Your comments and your support for this story literally makes my day! 
> 
> P.S.: the long line indicates a change of perspective! ^^

Lucifer had bristled at the preposterousness for her to be exposed to the _douchiness_ of her ex-husband, when she had told him about the planned visit, but he had lit up in delight at the thought of finally being able to meet the jaunty forensic scientist that was her neon party partner. Which he had of course picked up and had – most intrigued – wanted to know what exactly a neon party implied and whether he could join. Amateur, if a dorky one, but an amateur nevertheless.

While texting had been fun over the last few days, the strain of the still unsolved case gnawed at her and even though it was a Trixie afternoon, she craved the company of someone older than 10.

“Hey, Trix?”, she called over her shoulder towards her daughter, who had spread her colouring book and pencils all across the living area’s floor.

“Yeah, Mommy?”, her little head perked up and the wave of fondness that washed over her took her breath away.

“I know it’s our afternoon, but would it be okay for you if I invited Lucifer for coffee?” Normally she wouldn’t ask like this, but after all it _was_ their afternoon and it was important for her to make sure her daughter was comfortable with whom she brought into their safe space.

“Lucifer?”, she shouldn’t have been worried, because the way her Monkey’s eyes lit up spoke for itself. “Yes! He is so funny, Mom.” She abandoned her artwork and leaped towards her, tugging at her sleeve.

“Can you ask him to come over?”, excitement gleaming in her features. A short laugh escaped her as she grabbed her phone.

“Yeah”, sometimes she couldn’t even believe how awesome her kid was, “I’ll call him real quick, okay?”

“Yeeey! Do you think he can draw something with me?”

“Well”, she hesitated for a moment. Lucifer had been good with Trixie so far, but the unease that he carried himself with when he interacted with “the urchin” made her pause. “You know what?”

Trixie’s excited brown eyes stared up to her.

“I’m sure if you ask him super nicely, he will.” It wasn’t like she couldn’t wrap anyone around her little finger who wasn’t puppy eye resistant. (Most weren’t)

“Okay, Mommy!”, her gaze never left her as she brimmed with uncontained joy as Chloe searched through her contact list until she found Lucifer’s name. She lifted her phone up to her ear and listened to the tell tale ringing.

“Detective!” His voice seemed out of breath and she froze. Oh no, good lord, please, Lucifer. Just… it had turned out that the latter was quite sexually active and she prayed to every entity that she didn’t believe in that he wasn’t having sex right now. Blush rose faintly in her cheeks as she cleared her throat.

“Uhm, hey Lucifer. I hope I am not _interrupting_ something?”

A chuckle, “No worries, I just finished my work out anyway.” She really didn’t want to know which kind of work out, when she heard the dimmed noises of barbells and feet colliding with the floor through the speaker. Oh wow. It was an actual work out. In a gym.

“I can’t even _imagine_ you in work out gear.”

“Believe it or not”, his grin prominently displayed as it rung through the speaker, “I do wear something different than a suit occasionally.”

“Well, if you say so”, she teased, “But look, I am calling because I thought maybe we could do coffee? If you’re not busy and if you want, of course?”

“I’d love to, Detective! When and where, just say the word.”

“Uhm”, she swallowed lightly, “like, I have the afternoon off so sometime today? At my place?”

There was silence and for a moment she was afraid he wouldn’t answer.

“At your place”, he repeated more softly, “With pleasure, darling. I mean, I have been yearning to test the durability of your bed frame, but…”

“Lucifer!”, she admonished, “Stop deflecting. Do you want to come over?”

“Yes”, he chuckled, “I need maybe an hour to get back to my apartment and get ready, but I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Alright! Great!”

Someone shouted something at the end of his line. He turned away to answer, voice fading.

“What is it?” A pause. “Yes, it is.” Someone laughing. “Very well”, he had lifted the phone closer to his face again. “Maze says hi, Detective.”

“Oh”, surprise colouring her exclaim, “Well, Hi back from me.”

“Hi, Lucifer!”, Trixie squealed in that very moment.

“Is that the urchin?”

“Yes, it is _Trixie_.”

“Uhm, well. Hello, spawn!” She snickered at his insecure response, while her little one was over the moon at the sound of his voice.

“I’ll send you the address.”

“Lovely. I’ll see you.”

“Bye, Satan.” A groan that did absolutely _not_ let blood rush to her cheeks and did _not_ make her lower abdomen tremble, left his lips before he hung up.

Her Monkey had already darted off to her room to retrieve probably Miss Alien and she took a deep breath. Well, at least he hadn’t been in the middle of a threesome or something.

The hour had passed more quickly than she had expected, even with an 8-year-old asking every five minutes whether he’d be here soon. At a ring at the lower door of the apartment she hasted from her place at the coffee maker to open up for him.

Trixie had jumped up and vibrated next to her like a racing horse at the starting line.

“Monkey, calm down. He just needs to get up the stairs.”

“Yes, but –“ A knock at the door tore them out of their conversation and her daughter all but sprinted towards the entrance.

“Trix!”, she yelled after her, “You know what you have to do, before you open the door to _anyone_?”

With a disbelieving look she turned around, “But it’s Lucifer!”

“I don’t care who it is”, at her stern expression the little girl sighed, shoved her tiny stepping stool towards the door and hopped onto it to peek through the peeping hole.

“It is Lucifer!”, she confirmed with an eyeroll that she’d already picked up from her and opened the door with excitement.

“ _Lucifer_!”, with that she attached herself to his legs and left him with wide eyes and arms hovering in the air.

“Ah”, he made, mouth opening and closing, “spawn.”

She grinned up at him and only then he decided that he could maybe lower one of his hands to barely skim across her hair, but it was enough of a return of her barely concealed affection to let go of him. The relief that crossed his features was almost comical.

“Hey”, she greeted him softly, her shoulder propped against the doorframe.

His features brightened into something softer as he lifted his gaze up to her.

“Hello, Detective.” She had grown quite fond of the nickname, if she was completely honest. Her eyebrows raised at the thick leather jacket that held itself proudly on his shoulders and the dark pair of jeans that accompanied a grey T-shirt.

“That is unexpected”, she gestured at his choice of clothing.

“Well, as you couldn’t _imagine_ me in something different than a three-piece suit – not that it doesn’t fit me extraordinarily well – I decided to relieve you from that burden.” He grinned at her with glee and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Alright, you can put your shoes and jacket here somewhere and then please, follow me into our _modest home_ ”, she said, trying a fake British accent at the last bit and snickering, when he grimaced.

“Your pronunciation is awful.”

“Thanks. I do try”, she teased.

With a snort he toed off his shoes and found a hanger for his jacket, before following her into the next room. If she did sneak a peak at his exposed upper arms, well no one would know, would they?

“I set up some coffee”, she said and went around the counter to get some cups out of the cupboard, while he took a seat at the other side. His eyes roamed around the apartment with curiosity. Nervousness bubbled up in her chest. She was sure he was used to better standards by what she could tell from his wardrobe alone.

She nibbled at her lower lip as she retrieved creamer and sugar to put it in front of him.

“I don’t know how you like your coffee, so”, she pointed at the two items on the counter.

“Dark like my soul”, he joked as he took his cup from her, “Thank you, Detective.”

She grinned before she fiddled with the rim of hers, kind of waiting for his judgement.

“I know, it’s not a lot”, she stated after a moment and let her eyes wander over the few pictures at the wall and the sat-in couch.

“I like it”, he interrupted her quietly, “It’s…”, there was something in his eyes that reminded her of longing, “homey.”

“Thank you”, she said and paused, not knowing how to move on from the moment between them. It was Trixie that broke their silence.

“That’s Miss Alien!”, she shoved the stuffed animal into his chest. With a confused expression he took it from her.

“And?”, his eyes flickered towards Chloe in a silent plea of help.

“Well”, Trixie glanced down to her toes, before continuing, “Miss Alien and I wanted to ask if you could draw something with us?” Big brown eyes met their counterparts as they looked up to him. It was downright adorable how he got all flustered at such a simple request.

“I”, he begun, clearly overwhelmed.

“Monkey, let me and Lucifer catch up a little, yeah?”

“But later?”

Oh, there were the puppy eyes.

Lucifer stared down at her, mouth opening and closing and the shock that gripped his features when her eyes glazed over made her hide her grin in her coffee mug. His hand lifted as if on its own accord to brush against her daughter’s shoulder in an attempt of comfort as he nodded helplessly.

“If you desire so.”

With that a switch flipped and she grinned brightly up at him. “Thank you, Lucifer! You’re the best!” At her obvious intent of another hug, he held his hands up as if to shield himself from her vicious attack. She high fived him. Laughter burst from Chloe’s chest at his grimace and the soft “bloody hell” that left his lips as Trixie darted off.

“I see whom she got that talent for manipulation from”, he sighed into his coffee.

“Mh, you think so?”, she snickered.

“Minx.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”, he finally said after a few sips of his beverage.

“Uhm, I needed company older than ten I guess. Even though I am not even sure whether you fit into that category.”

He looked at her affronted.

“Please, Detective! My mental maturity does at _least_ match a twelve year old.” A giggle escaped her and the way his gaze softened into something warm made her blush.

“So”, he put down his cup and leaned forwards, “tell me all about that surprise visit that you’re getting.”

“It’s not really a surprise if I know about it.”

“Indulge me.”

Yeah, well. You know Dan –“

“Detective Douche”, he interrupted helpfully.

“Yes, him. He comes to see Trixie in a few weeks and Ella offered to come with him as my emotional support system.”

He sighed. “And here I was thinking I was your emotional support system.”

She laughed. “Well, you are! What would I do without my _favourite_ support devil?”

The pleased expression that bloomed on his face made her shake her head, amusement dancing along her lips.

“Anyway, I suppose it’s gonna be fine. I got work and catching up with Ella to fill my schedule with, so I don’t have to see Dan that much.”

“Mhm”, he made and pointed at the picture of the three of them at Santa Monica Beach. Trixie had grabbed one hand of the both of them, while they held her up together, her little legs flinging in the air. The picture had been taken when everything had been fine between them. When they’d still been a family. “Is that the Douche?”

“It is”, she responded and observed the frown on his face.

“Shame that so much attractiveness is wasted on a man with such little character.”

She let out laugh – how did he never fail to make her feel light when darkness weighed her down? – that resulted in awful cackling and she could swear she saw the corners of his mouth twitching up at it, while her cheeks blushed with what had to be a furious red.

“So”, she cleared her throat and busied herself with a sip from her coffee, “We always talk about the douche that is my ex, but what about yours?”

After sitting carefully still for a heartbeat, he looked up at her.

“Whatever do you mean, Detective?” His words flowed slowly out of his mouth, tentative as if to test the waters. Clearly, she wouldn’t get anywhere if she didn’t probe and push. Honestly information was harder to pull out of him than clogged hair from her shower drain.

“Well”, she bit her lip, “What’s he or she like?”

A soft thump sounded through the kitchen as he sat down his cup. His forehead had a frown etched deep into it as he seemed to ponder. Chloe brushed a loose strand back behind her ear as she observed him.

“I”, he opened his mouth and left out a shaky breath. There shimmered something unbearably raw in his eyes and for a moment she was afraid she’d gone too far. Again.

“She was rather lovely”, hoarse the words slipped from his throat, “She - Eve had … the most radiant smile, so infectious that you couldn’t help but feel better when you’re around her.” His fingers toyed with the ring on his middle finger.

“She cared so much about – well, about everything really. Was incredibly kind.” He fell silent and her heart broke for him. Timidly she reached for his hand and as he didn’t pull it back, but flipped his palm so it lay open for her fingers to scoot across it, she brushed caringly over the rough planes of his skin, warm and known underneath hers.

“It seems like there’s still feelings left from your side”, she said, hoping to gain a little more information. She hated seeing him that silent, that drawn into himself. If this woman broke his heart, she’d better never come anywhere near Chloe and her gun.

He let out a huff of air, before his dark eyes glanced at her. “There always will be. Eve”, he swallowed, “Eve was the one person that I loved more deeply than my issues ever went.”

Her heart thumped in her chest.

“But?”

His breath shuddered as he continued, voice now devoid of emotion. “Car crash. Five years ago. They had to draw her identity from her dental records.”

Frozen blood rushed through her veins, like she was submerged underneath arctic waves. She zeroed out on his eyes, swimming obsidian. Dental records meant that the body couldn’t be identified in any other way because of destruction beyond recognition.

“Shit”, she breathed and with that she was around the counter, knees nearly giving out and halted in front of him, hovering unsurely as she wasn’t sure whether a hug would do him more harm than good. Lucifer looked at her, furrowed brows and sight veiled by waves of pain.

“Detective?”, rasped her title passed his lips and with that she threw caution in the wind and lifted her arms to embrace him.

They sneaked around the broad plane of his torso, held tightly onto his back as she stretched onto her tip toes. His muscles tensed underneath her as her palms brushed over his shirt, drawing shooting circles, before his arms came down and around her. She felt his face against the crook of her neck as he tightened his grip. She couldn’t imagine – she didn’t want to imagine – how did he do it? Tears stung in her eyes as his shuddering exhale against her skin left goose bumps.

“You”, her voice broke and she started anew, “You are so _strong_ , Lucifer. I am so sorry.”

Pain and empathy oozed out of every pore of her very being as she tried to at least give him a resemblance of comfort. How much it helped she would probably never know.

The vibration of his hum tugged at a string in her soul that softly whispered _I know you_. His scent mingled with the one of his aftershave and even though she held the breaking man, trying to mend him together _somehow_ , she’d probably never felt more home and known than in this very moment, if one put Trixie’s birth aside. They swayed a little, her muscles strained from the position they were in, but she’d rather wake up with a sore back than let go of him. Moments came and went; his arms steady around her. Her heart skipped a beat at how strong they were, how safe they made her feel. She found herself not wanting to let go, but as he finally released a breath and eased his grip on her waist, palms slipping along her midriff she slowly let go. In every other situation them being so close would probably leave a trail of goose bumps on her skin. She had a hard time pushing the fact that she didn’t want something romantic, anything really into the forefront of her mind and shove the concerning wave of feelings or well, lust, back to where they came from.

They let go of each other and suddenly so bereft of his closeness she cleared her throat unsurely. He wiped across his face as if to get rid of the traces of his past and sighed.

“I’m sorry. Bad form.”

She frowned. What was that supposed to mean? For fuck’s sake, his girlfriend had _died_.

“You don’t need to have any kind of “ _form_ ””, her voice soft, but insistent, “not with me at least. I’m … I’m here for you, okay?” His eyes searched her face and as he did or didn’t find what he was looking for, the barest hint of a smile crept onto his lips.

“Thank you, Detective.” All that could be heard was the cartoon that Trixie was watching.

“I…it’s been five years, so well… I” _Should move on_. She knew.

“My dad”, she started, cringing at how loud her voice seemed in the calm room, “my Dad died 16 years ago. But the time doesn’t make it hurt any less that he isn’t here anymore.” Moving on sucked, moving on was hard and while she’d continued her life a part of her would always grieve for him.

His dark eyes lingered on her as he twisted the ring on his finger.

“I”, he released a sigh, his next words quiet, “I’d just like to hold her on my arms one last time and tell her how much I love her, how lucky I was for having her by my – in my life.” 

Silence hung above them and he swallowed, gaze averted, before his hands searched his pockets.

“I’m going for a quick smoke”, he mumbled, “Excuse me for a moment.”

She could only nod and not stop the disapproving expression that hurried across her face as he got up. A corner of his mouth tugged upwards, even as his eyes remained unsettlingly dark.

“Please spare me the lecture about the health risks that come with smoking, I assure you, Detective, I am informed.”

“Right”, she mumbled and shooed him off, “just…”

“I’ll try my best to not resemble an ashtray.”

“Thanks.”

With that he slipped on shoes and jacket and headed out off the door. As it fell shut, Trixie’s head perked up.

“Is Lucifer leaving?”, her young face was stricken and Chloe hastened to reassure her.

“No, Monkey, he’s just taking a step outside to smoke.”

“But smoking is bad for you, Mom.”

“I know that, Munchkin”, she sighed and made her way over to the couch to sit with her, “And Lucifer knows that too, he is an adult.”

“Okay”, she nodded with a serious expression before turning back to Tom and Jerry. Meanwhile Chloe’s thoughts drifted off, lead resting heavy in her stomach. She was nearly afraid to think what else he must have been through. But what if that was it? She really hoped that was it.

“But it’s still bad for him”, Trixie added as an afterthought.

“I know”, she couldn’t help bit smirk a bit, “You can tell him, when he comes up again.”

Seemingly satisfied with that her daughter followed Tom and Jerry’s back and forth and for the moment she just joined her, pulling her into her lap, holding onto her tightly. She just needed to feel the heartbeat that she’d carried within her next to hers, needed to breathe in the innocent scent of her child and confirm that she was here. Her little Monkey was safe. Her chest constricted painfully as she thought about the man a few stories below her. It wasn’t fair. How could something so horrific happen to someone as genuine as Lucifer? Sure, he had his issues and even if he was clean he didn’t refrain from indulging in other not so healthy coping mechanisms and surely had his fair share of Daddy issues from what she’d been hinted at. But he also supported her, no matter what it was, he tried to do better, she could tell, so why did it always hit the good ones? She knew she shouldn’t linger. Terrible things happened every day to so many people as she had to learn in her line of work.

* * *

He inhaled a long deep drag of smoke and sent in down to his lungs waiting for the nicotine to do its job. His heart was beating painfully in his too tight chest, while he felt too raw, too exposed. He didn’t like it. But that was the thing about the Detective. She made him feel like it was alright to open up. With her open gaze and gentle smile that told him it was okay. He shuddered like a dog trying to get rid of persistent drops of water that clung to its fur.

That was the problem wasn’t it? Him wanting her to know him? All of him? He swallowed as he shook his head. He shouldn’t. it was better that way. Or so he tried to tell himself at least.

* * *

The ring that indicated Lucifer to be done with ruining his lungs, startled her and Trixie scrambled out of her lap to open the door. Chloe heard her dutifully shoving the tiny stool in front of the peeping hole to get a glance at the man, then the door was ripped open.

“You’re back!”, she squealed, certainly ready to launch herself at him.

“Yes, urchin, I am. Will you refrain from touching me please?”

“But why?”, Chloe got up and followed the few steps into the hallway, only to see him shrug off his jacket.

“Despite my best efforts I am afraid I still smell like smoke.” His glance was apologetic as he looked at her.

She waved it off.

“Are you going to draw with me now?”

“Uhm”, his mouth worked speechlessly. Even if he didn’t seem very accosted to children, her weasel had him wrapped around her little finger.

“Please, Lucifer?”

With a clearly exaggerated groan he finally agreed. “Only so that you stop pestering me, spawn.”

“Yey!”, she snatched his hand and tugged him along, brimming with energy. Chloe did her best to hide her grin behind a curtain of golden waves, but he caught it anyway and sent her an affronted gaze.

“Does my discomfort amuse you, Detective?”

“Very”, she giggled and swept up the two mugs from the counter as she followed them.

She sat at the couch, legs crossed and reading through Michaelnova’s statement again, while Trixie and Lucifer were sprawled on the floor, crafting paper and pens cluttered around them.

“Pass me the blue, please”, her daughter said with the utmost seriousness one could muster when it came to a pencil drawing.

Lucifer shoved it towards her, while his fingers played with another pen.

“What is this…”, he clearly lacked words at the stick figures. For heaven’s sake she was eight! “this piece of art, that you’re creating?”

“We’re at Disneyland!”, she said, “Mommy, Daddy, Auntie Ella and me.”

“Ah”, he made, “I see.”

Her heart sunk. She knew that Trixie missed her Dad and that she’d love nothing more than for them to be a family again. But life never went just the way it should.

“What are you drawing?”, her Monkey piped up.

“I… I don’t know yet.”

“I always draw things I like”, she explained to him, “Like my family or Mars. I am going to be the first president of Mars.”

Her determined conviction was outright adorable and she chuckled into her coffee as she caught Lucifer’s amused eyes.

“I see, spawn. Big aspirations you have there.”

“Mhm. I wanna be as brave as my Mom and my Dad. Because a leader has to be brave and strong.”

“That you must”, he agreed, “And for your mother is the strongest person I know, I am sure you will be too.”

Oh, now he was just flattering her. She rolled her eyes.

“Thank you, Lucifer!”, her daughter grinned, “So, what are you drawing?”

He hummed vaguely and extracted a pen from her grip.

“We’ll see.” With that silence fell over them and Chloe escaped a pleased sigh and the smile on her lips that never waned at the sight in front of her grew only wider. The silhouette of a piano took foot at the crafting paper in front of Lucifer, while Trixie looked at him with a slight frown knitting her brows.

“Lucifer?”

He hummed in acknowledgement, eyes never leaving his drawing.

“Do you want to go to Disneyland too?”

“Why on earth would I want to go where all of you sticky little creatures are running loose?”

“I like Disneyland.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“And Mommy and I like _you_.”

“So?”

“So, you should be on my drawing too. But there’s a problem.”

That had him lifting up his head. “Oh?”

She nodded firmly and bit her lip. “I don’t know how to draw a suit.”

He blinked. “Ah… I suppose it is fine, spawn. I’m not wearing a suit now, do I?”

At that her features brightened again as she continued drawing. “Now we’re all at Disneyland, like a big family!”

Chloe had to suppress her snort of laughter at how quickly he snapped his head up. His eyes found hers, wild and uncertain, before they zeroed out on her daughter that was still scribbling and perfecting her picture. 

“Uhm, urchin, you _are_ aware that I am not related to you, right?”

The sight of the two of them drawing in front of her was endearing and secretly she had to agree with her daughter. Despite the few weeks that she knew Lucifer, he had grown on her.

“Yes”, she giggled, “Auntie Ella isn’t Mommy’s or Daddy’s sister either. But family is just the people that you really, really like, you know?”

Dumbfounded he wetted his lip. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

She looked up from her case file, her heart aching for him. Before she could search for terms to explain it to him, Trixie continued with the earnestness of an eight-year-old.

“I like you. You’re my friend and you’re my Mommy’s friend, so you must belong to our family like Auntie Ella.”

“Ah”, he made, clearly not understanding, but deciding against investigating it any further, but if she judged the secret glance that he stole correctly, the topic would come up soon enough.

She’d left to refill her cup of coffee in the kitchen, for the two of them to finish their art session as she heard heavy footsteps coming closer. A smile stole itself onto her lips.

“Detective”, he started, voice hurried.

“Another coffee?”, she calmly interrupted with the same soft grin on her lips as she extracted the cup from his slack grip.

Confused he nodded, staring at her, before he seemed to remember his line of query.

“Detective, your offspring _does_ know, that I am not her family, right? You haven’t told her that I am a long-lost uncle or something?”

She snorted at his apparent urgency.

“Yes, she does”, she replied and watched as dark liquid poured into the cup, gurgling softly like the spring of a river. She held up the hand that had been previously holding the pot of coffee, before he could cut in again and chuckled as he snapped his mouth shut.

Stretching out her arm to hand him his refilled cup, she motioned for him to sit, ignoring the case file on the countertop. He slowly sunk in the chair he’d occupied before and looked up at her with a frown distorting his features.

“Lucifer”, Chloe started, weighing her words, “Trixie _knows_ that you’re not blood related. But – at least to us – family is not always whom you’re related to. I consider Ella, who is the sweetest person and friend to me, my family, just because I care so very much about her, okay? So, if Trixie considers _you_ as part of her family that’s because she likes and cares about you. And so do I.”

His expression softened into slight bafflement. 

“Our family is this little makeshift dynamic and steadily growing, because, well, we care about certain people.” _We care about you,_ she wanted to say, because it was painstakingly evident that not a lot of people had ever told him that.

“I”, he started, his eyes still uncertain, “I guess I have to get used to”, he gestured with his hand, “that.”

“You can’t get rid of us anymore”, she chuckled. An ache, fleeting and translucent, hurried across his face, before he simply nodded and took a sip from his coffee, his gaze everywhere but on her. The sigh that wanted to escape her got washed down her throat as she sipped on her coffee. At the bitterness her tongue protested and she made her way over to the fridge to pour some more creamer into her cup.

“Detective?” There was an odd note to his voice that caused her to turn around only to find him studying a sheet of paper.

“Lucifer”, she groaned annoyed and resigned at the same time, “You can’t just look at my case files!”

His eyebrows wandered up to his hairline as if to say _Are you serious?_ An eyeroll accompanied her sigh.

“Right”, she mumbled and took in his sombre expression. Her feet carried her over to his side as she looked over his shoulder.

“What is it?”

“You see the three compounds after the calcium levels?

“Yeah?”, her eyes flickered along the line he pointed at with his hand.

“That’s”, he swallowed, “That’s Eden.”

“What? _Eden_?”

Her gaze flickered up to his face and blood seemed to come to a screeching halt at the darkness in his eyes, as if he was haunted by something invisible to her.

“Lucifer”, she tapped against his upper arm and tried her damn hardest to ignore how strong they felt underneath her fingers, “What do you mean by _Eden?_ ”

He glanced at her, then explained, voice rough, before he cleared his throat.

“It… Eden is a synthetic drug introduced to the market a few years back. Supposed to give you a haze and an _enlightening_ ”, his words dripped with venom and her thoughts travelled to the snake and the garden, “experience. A disaster if combined with something else. I mean, not essentially in the fall down and die a painful death way, but rather hysterics and pain.”

“How-?”, she was rendered speechless. How did he know this stuff? Did he take it himself and – did he _go_ through all those experiences?

“Never took it, Detective”, he said as if he’d read her thoughts and rolled his eyes, “just because I am a former addict, doesn’t mean that I ate my way through the buffet, so to speak.” He paused and put down the paper. “Are you into choking?”

She sputtered. “ _What_?” Blush rose furiously in her cheeks as her mouth opened and closed helplessly.

A snort escaped him at her heated cheeks. “You are absurdly adorable when you’re blushing, even if it stems from your prudishness.”

“ _Excuse_ me?”

He continued as if he hadn’t heard her protest, “Anyway. You restrict the oxygen flow and to experience a certain dizziness, that leads to stress hormones like adrenaline and heightens the rush and so on and so forth. That’s what Eden tries to accomplish and in combination with psychedelics it elicits what people see as a near _religious_ trip.”

“And that’s what he died of? The heroin and the... the”, she gestured, “Eden?”

“It shouldn’t have killed him”, he states slowly, “I mean it certainly wouldn’t be comfortable, but…”

“So what? He mixed it or was it laced when he injected it?”, she threw ideas into the open, unsure of how to deal with the fact that her friend that her daughter considered family knew that much about highly illegal substances and her own lack of knowledge.

He stared at her, before he groaned. “Such an idiot.”

“What? What is – “

“Eden is taken like meth, via a pipe to inhale the drug. Don’t look at me like that”, he protested, “Only because I _know_ a lot about them doesn’t mean I took all of them. Really, Detective.”

“I mean”, her nerves were wound up and coiled tight as he directed his slight irritation at her, “that’s kinda hard to believe.”

He snapped his mouth shut and glared at her. Her stomach fell as she realized her accusation. Halfway on her way to apologize, he interrupted her without her even beginning.

“Right”, his voice deadly even, “As you’re so keen to accuse me of things you clearly have no idea about, allow me to enlighten you.” His eyes flickered towards Trixie, who was still enthralled by a rerun of Leave it to Leslie as she’d abandoned her drawing, before he continued.

“Heroin, the occasional ecstasy, a bit of coke and weed”, he listed, gaze serious and set on her, while flames of anger seemed to lick their way along his irises.

“Contrary to your sweet story about family bonding, Detective, my family was a pack of abusive, manipulative bastards. I couldn’t stand it anymore, lost myself in something so I didn’t have to feel the repercussions of _their_ evils any longer. Then the one person that I decided to pull myself together for, got killed by - _in_ a car crash and here I am. I don’t _lie_. It’s something I’ve sworn never to do.”

His words sent shivers down her spine as her fears that she had wanted to dismiss, realized.

“So, I am not lying to you now”, his voice a little softer now, “I am clean. I have no interest in ruining myself once again. Do you understand?”

Chloe could only nod, as the lump in her throat robbed her of the ability to speak. She hated the way her eyes burned, hated the pathetic whine that rose in her chest, when it was _him_ not her who’d suffered. Her hand searched for his and as her fingers slipped into his palm, she gave him a little squeeze.

“I am so sorry”, her voice broke and she blinked away the tears that brimmed in her eyes. His fingers wrapped around hers as he sent her a smile, resigned and yet grateful.

“What ever for?”

_What ever for?_ He had been hurt so badly by his past, had been obviously tried again and again until it pushed him over the edge, pushed him into something that’d destroy his sense of reality, that would save him from facing the pain.

“Detective?”, he furrowed his brow as a tear made its way down her cheek, with her unable to stop it, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” He truly sounded remorseful and that made it even worse.

“It’s fine, it’s not that – I”, she tripped over her own words.

She was pathetic, crying over something like this, when he had clearly tried his very best to move on, when not even dead bodies moved her heart. It hurt, of course it did, because it meant that a person, a very real person with families and lives of their own had been killed, often brutally, but she had become extraordinarily well at compartmentalizing and somehow this didn’t work anymore. Lucifer was very much too real, too involved in her life for her to be able to put it aside in a category of her mind.

Quickly she wiped it away, but with no avail as another one escaped her grip.

“Oh, dearie me”, he mumbled, puzzled and uncomfortable, “What’s wrong, Detective?”

“Nothing”, she hurried to say, freeing her hand to dry her cheeks, “I’m fine, really.”

“Well, you don’t look fine, for starters. My, I haven’t complimented you again, have I?”

The corners of his mouth twitched and broke into a satisfied grin as she snorted at his weak attempt of diffusing the situation with humour.

“There we go”, his purr soft and amused.

She took a deep breath as she tried to regain her footing. Her heart was thumping painfully in her chest while she calmed herself, counted till ten and dried her eyes with the sleeves of her shirt.

“It just”, the words passed painstakingly insecure across her lips. She hated when she didn’t know how to express the turmoil within herself. “I’m sorry that you go hurt so much. In.. in your past, I mean. And for what I said. I didn’t mean to doubt you.”

His eyes grew wider and something akin to amazement rose in them like the sun everyday from its nest in the ocean. When she swallowed down the lump in her throat, her heart skittered at the softness in his gaze. She hated it. She hated that he regarded her as if she was the eighth world wonder when all she did was express her empathy for his past. His past that had been bad enough to push him into the abyss of drug induced forgetting. This shouldn’t come as a surprise. He should be annoyed by it, annoyed by the fact that everyone mentioned how sorry they were, when he wanted to do nothing more but on. But he wasn’t. Instead his lips wore a small, awed smile, his eyes open and vulnerable.

Before he could say anything else, he flinched violently as Trixie barrelled into his legs.

“Lucifer, you haven’t finished drawing with me!”

With that his walls slammed back into place and the softness in his expression shattered into discomfort.

“Well”, adorable was the word she was looking for as he stuttered, the tips of his ears blushing in the faintest shade of pink, “how about I finish it another time?”

And just like that the delicate ache in her chest rose into a storm in a feverish crescendo.

“Really? Do you need to leave already?”, with her swimming orbs she looked up and his gaze fell to his watch.

“Oh, dearie me”, his words tripping over himself and her stomach sunk even further, “so late already. Where has time gone?”

Trixie pouted, a whine escaping her. “But you’ll come back to finish your drawing, right?”

“Uhm, of course urchin. I am a devil of my word after all.”

“Okay!”, she beamed up at him with so much childish glee, so downright oblivious to his inner turmoil that he hid behind his ever charming and confident exterior. With that she extracted herself from his legs and Chloe chuckled as he let out a relieved breath. He got up, throwing her an apologetic look as he glanced at the refilled cup.

“I’m so sorry, Detective, but I must be going.”

Her arms came up to her chest, weaving into each other.

“Mhm, right”, she gave him a gentle smile that did nothing to sooth his frenzy. When she followed him to the door and watched him slip on shoes and jacket, her teeth nibbled at her lip at loss of what to say.

 _Everyone deals with trauma differently_ , her dad had always said, when she’d been sitting on his lap, overlooking the ocean and had asked him why there were so many bad people in the world. Pain birthed pain. Violence birthed violence. Only sometimes the cycle could be broken and something very different arose from the bad. Sometimes it’d be love or joy or a conviction and promise to be better. Sometimes it’d be simply hope.

As he reached for the doorknob, her hand came to rest on his forearm.

“Lucifer.”

He turned around, the lines around his eyes stretched into something that reminded her of concealed desperation.

“I am here for you, okay?”, a step forward into his personal space, “whatever it is, I am here for you.”

He looked down on her, gratefulness in his gaze as he regarded her.

“Thank you, Detective.”

His body seemed to be at war with his mind and she wasn’t quite sure which of the two won, but then he leaned down, softly pecking her cheek. She’d deny the way her pulse spiked. 

“I’ll bring a better blend for next time, but the coffee was lovely.”

“Snob”, she snorted.

“I have delicate taste buds contrary to you.”

With a roll of her eye she held open the door for him and waved him as he disappeared down the staircase, lost to some place that she couldn’t follow him to, as soon as he stepped over the threshold.


	11. Flashing red and blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst and more revelations^^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello peeps!^^
> 
> more angst it is!
> 
> I just wanted to say a quick thank you for all of you who are taking the time to comment, because I really, really appreciate it and it makes me so happy :3
> 
> I will say it here: in future chapters there will be explicit content aka smut XD I don't want to put the disclaimer in front of the actual chapter, because -I have to keep some secrets to myself, don't I? ;)
> 
> Without further do: Enjoy ^^

Ben Riley had been spotted a few hours ago and digging a little deeper an informant in narcotics told them about the chance of a drug deal at Hallets Point tonight. Even though the location was far out of their jurisdiction, Astoria’s precinct had agreed for them to do the stake out and further processing of the case.

Sun was descending upon the skyline of the city, not at all gleaming and beautiful, but rather dirty and lonely. The brick building stood proud with all its long foregone glamour, the fence’s wire rusty in the last light of the day.

Maria rested against the headrest, eyes staring dully ahead.

“Man”, she sighed, “Stake outs are boring.”

“I know”, Chloe answered, never leaving the entrance out of her sight, “But this is important. We could get the perp and if we have him, we’ll know more about the Sabanera’s dealing activities.”

“I know, but…”, her partner trailed of.

“I’d rather have dinner with Trixie too”, she agreed with a groan, “Bad timing. Why couldn’t they have waited until tomorrow…”

Silence encompassed them once more, and as Maria’s husky voice rose again, she didn’t even have to look at her to know she was grinning.

“How’s our devil doing?”

“Oh, Lucifer”, she stated the obvious. Since he’d left in a hurry the other day, she hadn’t heard much of him. Hopefully he was fine. But well, he had a therapist and surely other friends like Maze. He’d be fine without her, or so she told herself. The radio silence had her gut churning.

“Yes, him.”

“Uhm, nothing really. He’s fine I –“

Vibration tore her out of her sentence and in a flash her phone was lifted right next to her ear, eyes still glued onto the building in front of them.

“Decker.”

“Detective!”

Speaking of the devil.

Warmth rushed through her limbs in relief as she heard his voice. She hadn’t realized how much it had been amiss not to be in contact with him.

“Hey, Lucifer”, she responded unable to stop the little smile from forming, “How are you?”

“Good, good, listen”, he started. From the corner of her eye she could see the other woman’s smirk, but she chose to ignore it. This was maybe not the best place to have this conversation.

“Are you free tonight?” Her thoughts stuttered to a halt. She did _not_ expect that. “I thought after I so rudely rushed out of your place last time – even if I had my reasons – I thought maybe I could, you know make it up with dinner? So” he didn’t even stop to take a breath, “are you home? I could be there in five and we could get burgers. The urchin can come with us and –“

“Lucifer”, she interrupted him softly, heart swelling in her chest, “That’s really sweet of you and there is nothing you need to apologize for, but I’m at a stake out right now and I don’t know how long it will take, so yeah. I’m sorry.”

A pause.

“Oh. No, no problem, Detective”, even though he tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice she heard it in the way his excitement bled away.

“But another time, okay?”

“As you wish”, he sounded more upbeat as he spoke over the noise of cars rushing by.

“Where are you?”, she wanted to know with a little chuckle.

“Uhm”, he began, sheepishly, “I might, kind of, you know, be right in front of your apartment.”

Whatever was left of the self-proclaimed boundaries she had erected regarding her love and dating life melted away at the thought.

“Lucifer”, she started with a soft giggle.

“I know it’s kind of pathetic, but I forgot to ask for your opinion on it when I made my way over to you. But I didn’t want to show up uninvited and-“

She only heard Lucifer’s voice through the speaker fading out of her focus, Maria springing into motion, hissing her name and her eyes made out two figures in the dusk.

“I need to go”, with that and a fluid motion she was out of the car, gun drawn.

“NYPD, freeze!”, echoed across the empty concrete at her partner’s bellow and the next thing they did was to doge the incoming bullets.

Adrenaline still rushed through her system, crashing and receding like waves as they had the two of them cuffed and collected by backup. She thanked well something, for the thoughtlessness of New York’s residents, because without the trash, the disposed furniture and discarded and bent metal they’d be literally riddled with bullets. Right now she wanted nothing more than to curl up next to Trixie on her tiny bed and close her eyes. Her body ached for sleep and safety. Flashing red and blue blared through the darkness and caused the faint tingling of an incoming headache. Her fingers came up to massage her temples as she patted down her pockets for her phone. She must have put it somewhere there when she sprinted towards the building like a maniac. The world around her blurred as she shook her head and rubbed her eyes. It had been a long night. Way too long. Ben Riley would have to wait until tomorrow. Her lids burned with tiredness as the hormones slowly left her blood cycle.

A loud male voice tore her out of her trance. She let out a groan. It was late enough already and everyone wanted to go home. Why for fuck’s sake did the dude have to cause a scene? Squaring her shoulders, she turned towards the noise.

“Where _is_ she?”, her blood ran cold as she made out the lanky figure that frantically shook the paramedics shoulder.

“Where is Detective Decker?”

Her feet carried her across the concrete, eyes never leaving his shape. He ran a hand through his hair, while he searched the crowd in a rush. Why was he here?

“ _Detective_?!”, another shout tore loose from his throat, panic evident. What the hell was going on?

“Sorry!”, she mumbled as she shoved herself between two unis in order to get to him. Fuck, what was he doing here?

With a few more bumps and steps she was in his orbit. His shirt untucked and wrinkled, while his eyes ran over the crowd, wild and unseeing.

“Lucifer!”, she shouted, frustration rising in her chest. He couldn’t just show up to her work, not like this. It was heavens knew how late and-

Any further thought erased itself from her mind when his eyes found hers and suddenly he stood in front of her. With trembling fingers, he roamed over her body, searching for injuries.

“Lucifer”, she urged, “Lucifer, I’m okay, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer, but he did look at her. Air knocked itself out of her lung. Unshed tears hung on for dear life in his eyes, dark and desperate, while his lower lip quivered with every harsh breath that he drew in. It had his chest heaving. 

“You’re fine”, he choked out and his gaze flashed towards the sky as if in prayer, before returning to her.

What happened? She’d just been on the phone with him and it all had been fine and…. With a clammy hand she reached into her pocket. Sometime after they’d finally wrestled down Riley and his accomplice it had nearly fallen out of her jacket, which was exactly where her fingers found it now.

**4 missed calls from Lucifer M.**

Fuck. Chloe took in his pale face, sweaty and distorted by worry, curls a mess from where he’d dug creases through his hair. Her own hands trembled now as she opened up their chat window.

8:13 pm _Detective, are you okay? I heard shots._

8:15 pm _Please call me back as soon as it’s safe to do so._

9:05 pm _Detective, please, are you okay?_

9:10 pm _Detective?_

9:35 pm _I just need to know whether you’re fine._

10:11 pm _Detective, it can’t take you that long to catch some criminal lowlife, can it?_

10:42 pm _I’m getting worried. But you’re okay, right?_

10:50 pm **Missed call from Lucifer M.**

10:51 pm _Chloe. Please. Call me back._

Her heart trembled in her chest like the broken wings of a bird hit by a car.

11:05 pm **Missed call from Lucifer M.**

11:09 pm **Missed call from Lucifer M.**

11:10 pm _Chloe? Come on!_

11:15 pm **Missed call from Lucifer M.**

11:18 pm _I’m on my way, okay? … I … fuck. Just please, I need you to be okay. I’ll be there as fast as I can._

Her body shook from the tension that had built up inside her. In the flashing red and blue sweat shone on his forehead and without thinking she stepped closer, her hand finding its way towards him, until her palm rested on his chest, broad and heaving underneath her fingers.

“Hey”, she whispered at his wild expression. His heart thundered against her touch. “Hey”, she repeated, more firmly now, “Lucifer, look at me.”

His wide eyes found hers, the last hint of panic not faded yet.

“I am okay, I am here. I am fine. Okay? Do you understand?”

He nodded, a shuddering breath left his lips.

“I”, his voice hoarse, “I… there were shots and - you didn’t call back. And”, another breath, “and I even waited, but you wouldn’t answer!”

His words had gotten more and more frantic towards the end and in a lack of what to do, she stepped forwards and wrapped her arms around his still shaking body. Unlike last time he didn’t hesitate to grip her tightly against him, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His harsh breath against her skin sent shivers down her spine.

Gently her fingers brushed across the planes of his back, dress shirt damp from sweat.

“I’m okay”, she whispered as she heard him swallow against her neck.

His heart still tried to break out of his chest and so she continued drawing soothing circles onto his back. His scent was tainted by the sour stench of fear and grime and even though tremors still rolled through his body, she felt an overwhelming sense of safety as he clung onto her. Compared to him her frame was slim and fragile, even if she was nothing of the latter. She felt him pulling himself together as he shifted in her arms, stance widening and the movement of his chest slowing. He lifted his head from where it had been hidden at the side of her neck and tucked her closer to him, tucked her under his chin. Her body had screamed for sleep the last one and a half hour and now that it finally found a resemblance of calmness, her system longed to shut down. Heavy her lids slid close for a moment as she rested her forehead against his sternum, arms crossed loosely behind his lower back.

“You’re okay”, he repeated quietly. His fingers still twitched around her shoulders as if he planned on never letting her out of his grip ever again. As much as her heart ached for him, as much as it moved her to tears that he’d come here and as much as she dreaded the fact that this must be a déjà vu to him, she could barely keep herself upright and Kelsey had to be tired already, even if she’d told her it could get late.

She pulled away, or rather she tried to pull away as Lucifer’s grip on her tightened. Right. So, he _was_ planning on never letting her go again.

“Lucifer”, she sighed softly, pushing lightly against his abdomen and if she hadn’t been so tired, she would’ve blushed at how hard the muscles felt underneath her fingers.

“Hm?”, he made.

“It’s time to go home. Come on.”

With a sound that could have been both, an agreement or not he reluctantly let go of her only to bring his hands to his face, rubbing his palms across his eyes.

“Right”, he rasped, taking a step back. She wasn’t having any of it. Her fingers found his forearm and without thinking a lot about it she bid the unis goodbye and searched for Maria. The whole thing was dissolving anyway, but without a car they wouldn’t get far. Lucifer trailed after her, not a quip leaving his lips, that’s how shaken up he was. How did he even get here that fast? Did he take a cab and pay the driver off to ignore the entire set of traffic laws?

The other woman’s eyes questioned her without words, worry and suspicion etched in her features.

“Devil”, she mumbled as she got Lucifer to sit in the back and went around the car.

“What’s he doing here?”, her partner asked over the hood of the car, darkness and exhaustion made it hard for Chloe to focus on her.

“He thought I was in danger. I didn’t return his calls, he was worried. Yeah.” She probably didn’t make a whole lot of sense right now, but she was too tired to care.

“Oh”, she made and paused, “So I drop you off at your place?”

“That’d be amazing, Maria. Thank you.”

“No problem, partner”, she winked, her features carrying the same weariness as Chloe probably did. She got in at the driver’s side, while the blonde woman took in a deep breath, before slipping into the car. The first thing her eyes did was to focus on the man in the back seat, who’d leaned forward to rest his elbows on his thighs.

“Hey”, she spoke up as Maria focused on pulling out of the row of cars amongst which they’d hid, “Are you okay?”

His gaze flickered up to her and he tried his best to send her a reassuring smile, which ended up in a grimace and a shallow nod.

“You’re safe, that’s all that matters.”

His words were spoken quietly, but they pierced her heart, nevertheless. That wasn’t an _“I’m fine.”_ But he didn’t lie after all.

“Okay”, she said, holding herself back from telling him that she knew he wasn’t okay, “Maria will drop us off at home, okay?”

So many okays in a moment when nothing felt _okay_.

That had him look up at her, mouth opening, but no sound leaving his lips, before settling on a weak. “ _Detective_ , I never knew you cared.”

A small grin found its way onto her face, even if his remark carried none of the usual mischief.

“Of course, I care”, she rolled her eyes and turned in her seat.

“Thank you for the ride, Maria”, Lucifer’s next words were directed at her partner, “I apologize, I haven’t introduced myself yet. Lucifer Morningstar.”

“Maria Ramirez”, she responded with a smile curling her lips and a look at Chloe that spoke plenty, “And no problem.” 

The rest of the drive they were enveloped by silence and weariness. Chloe’s head rested against the cool glass, while her lids drifted shut from time to time. The minutes escaped her as she drifted in and out of consciousness, sleep shallow enough for her to pull out of it any moment. The car came to a halt and startled her out of her comfortable darkness.

“Out with you, Decker”, Maria chuckled, “Before you start snoring.”

“I don’t snore”, she protested weakly.

“Do too.”

“I had a cold!”

“Get out of my car, woman”, she grinned and pushed against her shoulder, “Come on.”

“It’s the department’s car”, she grumbled, but sent the other woman a small smile, “But thanks for the drive.”

“Anytime.”

“Come on, Lucifer”, she said over her shoulder and faintly heard him bid her partner goodbye as she already waited for him at the pavement.

Moments later he was next to her and they watched the silver car pull away and let out a deep breath.

“Come on”, she said, making her way over to the entrance.

“Detective?”, he sounded so puzzled that she felt her heart break all over again.

“Lucifer”, her tone didn’t leave room for discussion. It was the same that she used when Trixie stayed awake past her bedtime on a school night. “Come here, I will not let you go home like this.”

“But”, he broke off at her glare.

“Come on”, she repeated as she opened up the door.

Hesitantly he followed her in. He stayed silent when she waved Kelsey goodbye and checked on Trixie, lingering in the middle of the room like a package ordered and never collected. Exhaustion washed over her once again as she regarded him. His eyes bloodshot and hair tousled, he reminded her of a homeless magician. He must be stiff and uncomfortable. His shirt had probably soaked up all the sweat of the past hours. Making up her mind she took him by his elbow and ushered him towards the tiny bathroom.

“Detective?”, he asked once again, completely baffled.

“You’re going to shower”, she explained, “You stink. Towels are in the cupboard and I’ll get you a T-shirt or something, your shirt is pretty gross.”

With that she shoved him into the room and pulled the door shut, before she made her way into her room to gather one of her oversized shirts. Her shower would have to wait, but truthfully, she felt too tired to care about her own sweat. Water rushed as he finally made up his mind about the shower.

The fabric gathered in her hand she sunk down onto the floor in front of her bed. Just now her brain caught up with the extent of the evening. Fuck, he’d been so worried. She couldn’t ban the way his panicked eyes had found her, glossy and torn, red and blue reflecting in them from her mind. Had it felt the same way when he had found out about Eve? Had he shown up at the scene of the accident? Had he been at her side? Had the police knocked at his door? She hated this part of her job. Telling the victim’s family about their loss was one of the hardest thing aside from cases with children. A shudder ran along as she thought about her little girl that contently snuggled up against Miss Alien, for once sleeping before she came home from a stakeout. Her sight blurred when the deep apologetic voices of the officers reverberated in her mind from the night her Dad had been killed.

She sucked in a deep breath. It was fine, Trixie and she were alright. No one was shot or hospitalized. It was all good. As the steady patter of water subsided, she gathered her nerves and herself up from the floor and padded along. Maybe she could hop underneath the shower too, but truthfully – she had had worse nights on the shift. Her muscles moaned from strain as she stretched her arms above her head. Rubbing her face she stepped into the living area and promptly collided with a very warm and – and very _naked_ chest.

As if stung by an angry wasp she jumped back, eyes wide open. Hard planes of defined muscle lead down to a happy trail that disappeared behind dark fabric. A scar at his side knotted the smooth skin as small as a cent. There must be the same exact scar on his back at the exist wound of the bullet that hit him. Drops clung to his pecs, intermingled with tiny freckles that reminded her of stars on the pale background of his body. She yanked her gaze up to his face, blood rushing up her neck. Holy shit.

“Uhm”, she held the shirt up as she focused on something else then his abs. Which turned out to be a wise idea, because even though he’d pulled himself together his eyes were still blurry and red rimmed.

“Thank you”, he murmured as he took it from her and turned towards the bathroom as he folded it open. Her blood froze in her veins.

Scars, marred and angry, met her, right at the rims of his shoulder blades. Twins, long and screaming with agony. As if someone dragged a knife down his back, carved his symbols into his flesh. Wounds open and oozing that had healed slowly and painstakingly.

“Lucifer”, she breathed, her hand lifting at her own accord to tend them, caress them, inspect them.

“Hm?”, he looked back at her, with eyes tired and a small smile, her T-shirt lifted up.

The tips of her fingers brushed against his skin, trembling from the arctic ocean inside her. 

“God, this… what- what happened?” Her throat closed as she swallowed, hand skirting at the edge of past pain.

He whirled around and entrapped her wrist in his hand. He stared at her, features blank and so utterly vulnerable. His fingers lay warm against her skin, while her insides grew colder and colder still.

“Don’t”, he rasped at loss of what else to say.

“Who did this?”, she demanded quietly. They’d suffer. She’d find them and hunt them down for them to rot in jail for the rest of their lives.

His mouth opened, still silent.

“Lucifer, who did this to you?”

His silence became too loud too quick as her mind spun thoughts, intricate nets of information. His father, jarring scars on his back, lost partner, drug abuse, something so painful to bear the need for him to lose himself.

“I did.”

She startled.

“What?”, barely a breath escaped her. There was no way someone could do this to oneself. That was beyond gruesome. That was mutilation. 

“I…”, he tripped over his own tongue as it darted out to wet his lips, “it’s where I cut my wings off.”

Waves of ice washed over her. His wings? Was he… did he really believe that? That he had had wings? Were those some kind of metaphor or did he _really_ think that? Were those delusions the reason he saw a therapist? Not that the rest of his past wasn’t reason enough, but were they?

“Lucifer”, she choked, but he let go of her wrist as if burned and pointed towards the bathroom.

“You should shower as well, Detective”, he murmured, taking a step back, leaving her bereft.

Mechanically she nodded jerked her head in the direction of the couch.

“It won’t take long, just, don’t disappear on me, okay?”

“As you wish”, he cleared his throat and pulled the shirt over his torso. She just nodded, heart still thundering against her chest, before she disappeared in the small bathroom. The mirror had fogged and a milky vail had covered its surface, aside from where his hand had wiped the traces of vapour away. She shook her head.

Marred scars. _I did._ Her fingers had only been allowed the barest sensation of connective tissue underneath their tips. She shook her head, stripping off her clothes and quickly hopped into the shower. Shivers ran along her spin as she washed off the day’s dirt and dried sweat as efficiently as she could and get it over and done with _._ She’d barely registered putting on some clothes when she finally pulled on her chunky cardigan and padded towards the living area.

Lucifer stared into nothing when she lowered herself on the couch next to him, startling him.

“Oh”, he made, “that was fast.”

“Mhm”, she answered, scrutinizing him, before quietly, carefully prodding in the shallow darkness of the room. “Lucifer. What happened to your back? What do you mean, you did this to yourself?”

She tried her best to keep her tone calm and soothing. Cornering him was of no use. He leaned back, crossing his legs on the way.

“I told you already, Detective”, his voice level, “I cut my wings off.”

Wings. Okay. Wings. She’d just go with it. Go with the metaphor.

“Okay”, she stated quietly, “But why would you… you know… cut them off?”

He turned towards her, deliberately slow and her heart skipped a beat as shock and panic flickered through his eyes. His jaw worked as he figured out what to say, what to entrust to her. Snapping his lips shut, he sucked a sharp breath in through his nostrils. As he released it, he considered.

“I”, the anger in his words hit her unexpectedly for his demeanour betrayed none of the furnace that raged within him, “-he put them onto me and I _do not_ want them. I am my own man, not _his_. So, I got rid of them.”

He – who? His father? – put what onto him? Tattoos? But he could have lasered tattoos couldn’t he? Other wounds? Other scars that he’d gotten rid of by carnage rather than plastic surgery?

“Okay”, she whispered, overwhelmed by the implications of his statement.

He nodded curtly, before continuing, “I don’t want to talk about them. Please.” He added as an afterthought as his eyes flickered up and down.

“Okay.” It really wasn’t.

Again, they fell silent and everything inside her protested at it. There was a reason why they were here, sitting on her tiny couch, way past midnight, both rumpled and tired. They should be talking, especially about this if not about anything else. Shifting in her seat she turned towards him, her eyes drinking in the strain in his posture, the darkness of his eyes, the weariness in his features.

“Talk to me”, she whispered, a pleading edge in her words, “What happened today?”

Silence met her and it hurt. She understood that his past was not something he liked to talk about, but he already had! But every time she finally thought he was ready to open up, let her see _something_ , his walls slammed back into place and he drew back into his safe space. He hinted things and offered her little nuggets of information, that she soaked up like the detective she was, but she didn’t want to violate his boundaries by using these nuggets for her own investigation. He was her friend and she wanted to give him the freedom to come to her with his problems, with his past. But then on the other hand he always reigned himself, censored himself. The itch to _know_ the truth grew more impatient with every day and she was tempted to give in. Maybe she’d have to if it meant understanding. 

Desperation clawed its way up her throat. This was her friend and he was hurting and it was late and her body was too fucking tired to give out and he wouldn’t _talk_ to her. Tears welled up in her eyes as her forehead fell limply against his shoulder. She was beyond caring as he flinched at the sudden impact.

“Please”, she said, swallowing to stop begging, to stop the whine that rose in her chest. To not start sniffing like Trixie did, when Dan had forgotten to call her back. “Talk to me, Lucifer. I can’t… I’m here for you and I want to help, but I can’t do that if you don’t let me in. Just, _please_.”

Breaths huffed next to her ear, before he lowered his head onto hers. Silence. That damned, stifling silence that still gnawed its way through her chest. She swallowed down her tears or at least she tried, when he shifted underneath her. The defeated posture grew rigid, muscles against her head tensing as if to fend off an intruder. Maybe she was just that to him. An intruder. Maybe she should just give up. Accept that he wouldn’t trust her or at least not the way she trusted him. Defeat tasted bitter on her tongue as she huffed a breath, fragile and bitter.

“I couldn’t bear it.”

Understanding eluded her as she sat up and stared. Lucifer’s lean figure held itself upright by his arms, weary as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, way too heavy for him alone to carry. But the stubborn idiot wouldn’t let her help, so that’s that. Hope spied through her fingertips, as she rubbed her face. She couldn’t give him up, not even if she wanted to. She was too much like her father. How could she ever give up on him when he was like _that_?

“I couldn’t bear it”, he repeated and his dark gaze met hers, the same raw expression in them from when he’d found her at the crime scene.

“Couldn’t bear what?”, she rasped, desperate tremors shaking her vocal cords. _Please let me in._

A swallow, a breath, a choked fragment of a sentence.

“To lose you too.”


	12. Tired dawns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interlude consisting out of investigation and a little bit of awkward and fluffy Chloe and Lucifer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey peeps! 
> 
> You're getting two shorter chapters today and one monster chapter for tomorrow (stay tuned it's a good one!)
> 
> I appreciate all you comments so much - I can't even tell you guys! Thank you for your support!
> 
> Here we go^^

The next sunrise robbed her of the possibility to recap the last night as she woke up on her tiny couch with a stinging neck and stiff muscles. The few hours of sleep could have as well been none as the rings under her eyes burned with a ferocity that made her regret her choice of profession for a second. The thought was whisked away by Trixie who had to get to school and the man who had made them scrambled eggs and cut up apples in the morning, who had the audacity to appear as much as his well-rested and immaculate self as it was possible when wearing her washed out LAPD shirt and bags underneath his eyes. Bartenders and their impossible sleeping schedule.

After nothing but small talk and forced puns they were hasting out of the apartment to get Trixie to school and as soon as Chloe turned to bid Lucifer goodbye, he had already disappeared.

Even coffee didn’t do anything for her as she sipped on it, massaging her temples. Ben Riley remained silent, not willing to talk, but the drugs they’d found on him was the same substance as in the victim’s blood. Which meant that _Eden_ was already circulating in New York. Narcotics had already stalked in today, planted themselves in front of her desk and declared the case as theirs. With grinding teeth she’d agreed, because really, what could she do? She was a homicide detective. But first they’d get this statement out of him. She needed to tie up the loose ends, make sense of this chaos of a case.

With nothing else left to do, she recalled the night before. Those scars. Her throat grew tight just by the thought of them. How could he say that he’d done this himself? How could he have - ? Pulling her keypad close she started typing. She’d refrained from searching information until now. This wasn’t some slight family drama, this was abuse and she’d find whoever pushed him into a hole so deep, so dark that he was pulled back in, no matter how far he’d crawled out. He’d never reached the event horizon. There was no escaping.

The police data base spit his face out, records only going five years back. A few bar fights, an overnight stay due to intoxication and apparently him being a danger to himself, rather than others, if the report could be believed. No hospital bills. Did he have a private doctor? How on earth would he afford that? He tended the bar for heaven’s sake. Had he inherited from his family? Would he even take the money from his family? Did he simply not seek medical care after his back? No. That couldn’t be. He had to. The wounds that scars like that stemmed from would be lethal if they didn’t get treated. Or had he already been hurt when he arrived here?

She tried her best to see the links, to realize what connected him to the UK, but she came up empty. Whoever had changed his name and set up his legal – well, were they? – documents had to be a pro. But how did he even know someone like that? The tiny hairs in her neck stood up at the boding of trouble. It pointed towards not so legal and not so clean connections back in England. Which would explain his knowledge about Eden, she supposed. What if he came from a background of dealing? She blew out the air through her mouth, cheeks billowing. What else could she do? He wouldn’t tell her anything substantial, just ….

A thought stroke and hesitation held her back for a moment, before she typed in. A car wreck in the Daily Mail, just a small article about breaks giving out and the vehicle burning within minutes, leaving nothing behind but a charred skeleton of metal and bone. Her heart beat heavily in her chest and she swallowed back bile that clawed its way up her oesophagus. With quick fingers she closed the tab, anger and guilt tearing hot and rotten through her veins. The fine line between informing herself and invading his privacy was thin and she’s pretty sure she just overstepped and not only by a bit.

Her teeth abused her lips again, while the pen in her hand spun and spun restlessly. Something didn’t add up. Something was missing. A big something. And no one could tell her what, besides him. Making up her mind she promised herself she’d give him time, she owed him as much. And she’d get herself answers, because she that’s what she owed herself.

The days came and went as they always did, exhaustion left its traces, but she soldiered on. Their prime suspect swore up and down that he hadn’t had anything to do with his death, that it was all Blake’s fault and _great_ , another person to find. Dan’s visit edged closer and closer and even though Trixie’s excitement was infectious and she actually looked forward to see Ella, her stomach clenched with unease. She hadn’t talked to Lucifer since that night and she couldn’t go on like this. Not only was she yearning for answers, but also for the knowledge that he was okay. As okay as he could be, obviously.

Her fingers toyed with her phone ever so often, unsure of whether to call him. She drew up his contact, thumb hovering above the call button and then she never did. Maria was right. She was a chicken. She should just get over with it. Steering out of the hustle of the precinct she made her way to the parking lot, lifting the phone up to her ear. Her heart pounded in her ears, steadily and heavy as she waited for the ringing to subside.

“Detective?” Relief washed over her in waves and the day’s stress melted away at his voice, deep and soothing.

“Hey”, she said, toying with her keys.

“Is everything alright?” Even now she could hear the distant worry in his question.

“Yeah, of course. I just…” _I wanted to ask whether you’re okay. I need to know whether you’re fine._

“I miss you”, she blurted out instead. She froze, petrified by her admission. Blood rushed to her face, embarrassed and furious. His sharp intake of breath hit her hard.

“You”, he breathed as if he couldn’t believe her. Her jaw didn’t work when she wanted to take it back, tell him that she was sorry, that she didn’t mean it, that ….

“And I you”, his admission was timid as if it was some closely guarded secret.

“Are you free tonight?”

“I”, she stuttered, the blush of her cheeks no longer stemming from embarrassment, “I could be. I mean, you know maybe Trixie can stay with a friend and…”

What on earth was she doing? He surely didn’t want to know that and…

“Okay”, he breathed out, “yes, no worries, just tell me once you know whether you have to stay with the urchin.”

“Okay”, she repeated.

“But, there’s a band at Y’s Gawen tonight and my shift isn’t until tomorrow, so maybe we could”, he swallowed, “ _talk_.”

Talk. _Answers_.

“That sounds great”, she heard herself say, “I’ll let you know.”

“Alright.”  
  


“Yeah.”

Her heart was thundering against her ribcage as he let out a small pant.

“I …”, he broke off.

“Yes?”, hopeful, stupidly hopeful.

“I’m looking forward to see you. “

“Me too.”

“Very well then, Detective. I’ll hopefully get your ‘okay’ in a few hours.”

“I’ll let you know. See you.”

“Later”, he clarified and she could swear he was starting to grin.

“Yes. Later. Probably. Bye.”

“Goodbye, Detective.”

With that her head dropped against the cool wall behind her, her ponytail pressing against its back. Even biting down on her lip couldn’t stop the small smile on her face from spreading.


	13. Little minx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short interaction between Chloe and her little urchin^^

Trixie’s affairs handled, she shot off a text to Lucifer, before she turned the chicken nuggets with her spatula, adjusting the time.

“Monkey! Dinner’s ready in a minute!”

“Coming!”, her high pitched voice muffled by her room’s wall. Just when she put the plates on the counter and retrieved the small bottle of ketchup, her daughter skittered to a halt in front of her.

“Come on, take a seat, munchkin. Sandy’s mom is coming over in half an hour.”

With a tentative look the little girl regarded her.

“Are you working late?”

God, she hated it. Her daughter shouldn’t be afraid of her going to work. She hated it. She just couldn’t see how to solve the problem. Some stakeouts were non-negotiable.

“No, I’m not Monkey”, she soothed her child, fingers dancing lovingly through her braid.

“What are you doing then?”

“Uhm”, she made, grateful that the oven’s beeping gave her a reason to turn around, “I’m actually meeting Lucifer.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“Like on a date?” If she only knew that.

“No, Monkey”, she chuckled, placing the crispy blobs of food onto her plate, “It’s really not. We’re just going to talk a bit.” She placed her daughter’s probably nutritionally questionable dinner in front of her.

“Thanks”, the latter beamed and shook the bottle of an excuse of a condiment. Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she regarded the offensive blob of red.

“So, are you going comfort him?”

That had her snap up her head. “What do you mean?”

“Mhm”, she made through a mouth of chicken nuggets, “he was sad when he was here last time. Wasn’t he?”

A little sigh escaped her. Her daughter was more perceptive than was good for her at times. But that was to be expected of the kid of two cops? Chloe couldn’t help but want to keep her far away from all the pain and trauma that was associated with Lucifer’s past. This was nothing that should ever concern her.

“Yes, a little”, she answered, pondering, turning the words over in her mind and then again on her tongue, “But he’s better now.”

“Okay”, her daughter munched on, “Do you think he’ll finish drawing with me some time?”

“I’m sure if you use your big, brown puppy eyes on him, he will”, she grinned with a wink, “You little weasel.”

Trixie beamed back up at her, a giggle escaping her. “Sometimes”, conspiratorially she leaned forward, whispering, “I just act like I’m really, really sad, so they give in. It always works on Daddy.”

Chloe knew she should admonish her but couldn’t for the life of her bring herself to do it. Instead she grinned. 

“You know what?”, she paused and chuckled at her little girl staring up at her with wide, anticipating eyes. She’d be damned, she was raising her daughter to become a devious manipulator. “Sometimes I do the same thing, or well”, she suppressed a snort as she thought back to dark eyes gazing at her hungrily, a heavy swallow as her fingers danced across his collar, “something similar.”

“Do they also give in?”, Trixie wanted to know, still whispering as if they were two spies exchanging sensitive information.

Glancing from left to right, she leaned forward, a chuckle escaping her, “Every time.”


	14. Just for tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe gets answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning peeps (at least it is morning for me XD)
> 
> Today a super long chapter for you :3... let's just say I loved it and leave it at that XD
> 
> The song "Just for tonight" is by James Bay for those interested 
> 
> (I'm thinking about making a Spotify playlist for the series - any interest in that?^^)
> 
> I love all the comments you write and as I try to answer all of them I will also include my own opinion on things in them and all that shebang - please do not take it as an offence (that is the last thing that I want!)  
> I do enjoy that there will be different standpoints and inputs and I hope it does not keep you from saying what you wanna say to the story! If it does - I am truly sorry. it was not and will never be my intention to give off the vibe that you cannot express your opinion freely.
> 
> If you wanna know more about the writing process or updates or just wanna come by and say hello I am on instagram @esh_es_writes !
> 
> Now let's get to the chapter, shall we?
> 
> Lots of love peeps!

Her heart ached already when she thought of her little Monkey, longing for cuddles in front of The Lion King, but there she was, dressed in tight jeans and heels, one of her favourite blouses thrown on, billowing and burgundy under the dirty streetlights in front of _Y’s Gawen_. She swallowed down the nausea when she thought of answers and scars. Breathing through her nose she entered the bar, an upbeat acoustic guitar intermingling with the tones of a duet. 

The stress that had her coiled up tight eased off at the warm atmosphere and a soft smile played with the corner of her mouth. Strolling down the stairs, she could make out the dewy caramel of Maze’s skin somewhere behind the bar. When dark eyes met hers she lifted a hand and waved at her with a grin. At her raised eyebrows the female barked out a laugh that she couldn’t hear over the music and pointed towards one of the velvety booths.

‘Thanks’, Chloe mouthed. Shaking out her golden waves she concentrated on finding Lucifer’s tall figure in the slight crowd. Which wasn’t really a big problem as her eyes stuck on him only a heartbeat later. His arms lay stretched out like a lazy cat in the sun over the back rest of the booth, a tumbler dangling from his fingers. His gaze locked eyes with nothing as she made her way towards her. Again, insecurity washed over her. The need to know in a one on one combat with blissful ignorance. She swallowed. The truth will set you free and all of that shebang. With a last cleansing breath and her fingers smoothing out non-existent creases in her blouse, she stepped into his orbit. She thought of something witty to say, but her mind lay blank.

“Hey”, she smiled instead, heart accelerating as he lifted his eyes of the table. She’d never grow tired of the way his entire demeanour, his features would brighten when he looked at her.

“Hello Detective”, he grinned at her, shifting to the side to make space for her, arms curling back in towards him. The idle house cat turned into an attentive panther, eyes sparkling with wit and interest.

She slid next to him, grinning at the way his gaze flickered over the open cleavage of the deep red fabric and the open waves that cascaded like spun gold over her shoulders. She really loved her hair once it complied with her wishes.

“So”, she suppressed a giggle and forced her features into a flirty smile, “Do you come here often?”

Lucifer blinked at her, eyebrows raised and the corners of his mouth twitching viciously.

“Matter of fact, I do”, he regarded her with his best smoulder that had her shoving his side with her elbow.

They stared at each other before breaking out into laughter. God, he was endearing like this, arm curling around his belly as he doubled over with laughter, the other hand coming up to wipe the tears of amusement from his eyes while he shook, mouth opened into a bright grin. She was pretty sure she was a demented witch again, as she cackled until her stomach hurt.

“Ahh”, he made, “Do you have something to drink already?”

She could just shake her head and focus on breathing.

“Beer?”, he asked, amusement still colouring his voice.

“Yes, please”, she giggled.

He motioned for someone, probably Maze, before glancing at her.

“So, Detective”, he mused, “I heard you already missed my alluring presence.”

She felt heat creep into her cheeks and feared her face would soon be of the same colour as her blouse.

“Well”, she held her chin high, “my daughter is constantly pestering me about you still having to finish drawing with her, so yeah. I truly wish you would’ve been by sometime.”

“Mhm”, his eyes sparkled with mirth, “I see. That’s the only reason?”

She shook her head, chuckling. “I mean, it was the main one, but”, she teased him, “What can I say? Free drinks can be very convincing too.”

“Minx”, he snorted. A thump against the desk’s surface made them look up and Lucifer threw a grateful glance up to Maze, before sliding the bottle over to her.

“Thanks”, she smiled and watched Maze disappearing in the crowd.

Chloe had to pry her eyes of the woman’s body, because Maze had even her swooning. She sipped at her bottle, while she turned her attention back to the man next to her. His black shirt was rolled up to his elbows and stretched just right across the planes of his muscles. She swallowed. She was absolutely not thinking about what lay beneath the fabric, was _not_ thinking about how his torso had felt underneath her fingertips. She shook her head to get rid of the haze and regarded him. His fingers toyed with his tumbler while his eyes flickered from the amber liquid back to her.

He huffed a breath, before turning his torso towards her, his arm stretched across the back rest once again. The barest of smiles hurried across his lips, his gaze so earnest.

“I missed you.”

Her heart paused in her chest, melted in the next instant and swirled around excitedly like the whisky in his hand.

“I bet you say that to all the girls”, she tried to conceal the whirl of emotion inside her with humour.

“I really don’t”, still this tentative, but sincere smile in place.

That had her blushing even more and she brushed her hair to one side at the heat that radiated of her skin. She gulped down the onslaught of emotion that overcame her. Carefully drawing in a breath, she allowed herself to settle against the booth, close enough for his fingers to skim against her shoulder if he straightened his arm.

“I”, she hated that she stuttered, “I missed you too.”

The smile that bloomed on his lips knocked her off her feet. Well. It would have at least. His eyes were so unbearable warm, so soft, while his whole posture radiated safety and contentment. She couldn’t stop herself from secretly yearning to be in his arms again.

She cleared her throat. “You wanted to talk?”, she tried to steer their conversation onto safe waters again.

“ _Want_ is a strong word”, he snorted, drawing his arm back in and her body betrayed her once again as it whined at his withdrawal. “I rather think you deserve the truth.”

“Okay”, she nodded, biting her lip, waiting. But he stayed silent. He always stayed silent. She knew she promised him time. But her heart clenched painfully when he wouldn’t talk to her. He was clearly willing, maybe even trying – it still hurt. She contemplated, pushed the thought forward, willed it to finally leave her lips. “Your records only go back five years with zilch connections to the UK. I checked earlier this week.”

“Oh?”, he perked up at that, “Not sooner? I am disappointed, Detective.”

“Hm”, she made, eyebrows knitted together, “I think it’s your story to tell, not mine to pry out from some archive.”

“I see”, he hummed, before groaning and knocking back his drink, “Bloody hell, I need to be more drunk for this.”

As if the other bartender - Patrick was his name, she believed - had heard him, another tumbler appeared in front of him, mere moments later.

“Leave the bottle”, Lucifer told him with a smirk that stretched his lips into a grimace. Chloe’s stomach sunk. How bad could it be?

“You really shouldn’t use alcohol as a coping mechanism”, she said, knowing reprimanding him was futile as he emptied the next glass with a gulp.

“You sound like my therapist”, he sighed, “And I know. It’s just…” He hesitated, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I avoid talking about my _past_ ”, he spit the word out like poison, “as much as possible.”

The cold within her had her scooting closer to him, her hand coming to rest on his, the rough skin of her palm brushing against the cool metal of his ring.

“I understand”, she said, a timid smile on her lips as she looked up to him, “Tell me anyhow?”

The way he zeroed in on her, gaze dark and with an edge of desperate sincerity in it, had her stomach clenching in anticipation.

“I will. You have my word.”

“Okay”, she gave him an encouraging smile. He nodded, before pulling his hand from underneath hers to pour himself another drink.

“So”, he raised his voice, shifting back to someone more confident, cockier, “What do you want to know, Detective?”

“I”, she bit her lip, feeling overwhelmed, before slipping into her role as a detective. If he distanced himself, so would she. “Let’s start with where you’re from. Why did you come here?”

He sighed, a slight edge of annoyance in his explanation as he spoke up, “I believe I already told you that, Detective, but very well. I’m originally from Wales, have quite a big family there. Let’s just say Mom and _Dad”,_ his words tasted like venom,” weren’t parents of the year. I never agreed with their methods, with their obsession with control. So, I rebelled, stayed out long, got drunk, got into fights, you know the rest”, he sent her a humourless grin, that had her gut churning and she nodded.

“My siblings didn’t do anything, just stood by when it got worse and worse. But who am I to blame them? Why would they have wanted to invoke father’s wrath for standing up for the wayward brother, the one who ruined everything, when all I wanted was a choice.”

Anger rose in his voice, furious and hurt and she bit her lip to stop herself from interrupting him. She had never had siblings, but she couldn’t imagine standing by when someone close to her got hurt. She would’ve stood up to her parents a hundred times, but then again, she was lucky to have _them_ as her parents.

“Eve was the last tie I had to the UK. When she”, he swallowed, “When she was gone, I left. I couldn’t do it anymore. Not without her. So”, he flashed her another false smile, “here I am.”

She nodded to herself, letting his words sink in. it did correspond with what she had put together in her mind. Her eyes took in his tense figure, knowing that talking about it wasn’t easy for him. Her chest constricted – part pleasantly, part painfully – as she took in a deep breath.

“Okay”, she said, searching for his hand again to squeeze it between hers, “thank you. For letting me in.”

Puzzled he stared at her. “Those can’t possibly be all of your questions, Detective.”

“They’re not”, she agreed lightly, drawing circles on the back of his hand with careful fingers, “but it’s a start. So yeah. Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome”, he answered, returning her squeeze lightly. It had her heart skip. “So, don’t be shy”, he quipped, “get it all out of your system.”

She shook her head with an amused smile. “So, I know you’ll probably not want to talk about it, but…”, she took another deep breath and swallowed down the lump in her throat as his features closed up, “Those scars.”

He hummed.

“Since when do you have them?”

He gulped down his whiskey.

“Five years”, he stated nonchalantly.

“From back home or when you got here?”

His tone was indignant and angry as he snarked, “Wales or my family never were _home_ , Detective, but no, I have them from my time here in America.”

“You said you caused them.”

“I did.” She wasn’t sure whether he was referring to his statement or the action of self-mutilation.

“I…”, the question still burned on her tongue, needy and stinging of fear, “ _why?_ ”

Lucifer didn’t look at her as he answered, tone level. “My father, he… he put something onto me. Something that marked me as his. And I am not. I am _mine_. I didn’t want it. So, I cut it out.” As if it wasn’t a big deal.

“Your… your wings”, she recalled carefully, not wanting to go too far.

He huffed, “One could refer to it like that.”

She swallowed down the new information, desperate to commit them all to her mind so she wouldn’t forget them. She took a sip from her beer and let the music wash over her. His fingers had interwoven with hers and they just sat next to each other, taking in each other’s company.

“Thank you”, she said again. His grip around her hand tightened as a response.

The silence between them was filled by guitar strings and hoarse voices crooning, by animated chatter from the tables around them.

“So”, she tried to lift the mood, “What are we doing with the rest of the night?”

She should’ve known as soon as the words came out of her mouth.

“ _Detective_ ”, he drawled, expression alight with glee, “just say the words and we’ll be on our way!”

“Lucifer!”, she admonished, shaking her head while finished her drink and tried very hard to ignore that what had come out of her mouth hadn’t been a _no_.

“I’m just saying, if…”

“I get it”, she rolled her eyes, “come on, what are you? A horny teenager?”

He snorted at that, amusement dancing across his lips. “Devilishly handsome, witty, clever, a king in the sack, dealer’s choice, really.”

She groaned at that and got up. “I’ll get myself another beer.”

“You are aware we have staff to do that, aren’t you?”

“Mhm, yeah. But I wanted to talk with Maze anyway, so”, she turned and made her way through the slight crowd. As she didn’t feel his presence on her heels she paused.

“Aren’t you coming with me?”

“Hm?”, he looked up from his tumbler, “Oh, I thought you were going to say something like, Lucifer, stay. Good devil!”

She refrained from smacking her forehead with her flat hand and groaned.

“You have a praise kink going on there?”, she quipped, rolling her eyes.

He barked out a laugh, knocking back the last bit of his drink and followed her. Brushing slightly against her, he leaned down. The way his breath skimmed past her ear sent shivers down her spine.

“Why don’t you find out, Detective?”, he murmured and with that he was at the bar, faster than she managed to tear herself out of her trance and follow him. Maze seemed to have her hands full as she moved through the bar, carrying herself with a confidence Chloe could only dream to have one day. Maybe later.

A smug grin danced across his lips when she stepped next to him and she rolled her eyes. Who was the tease now?

Shooing off two guys at the bar he motioned for her to sit. It reminded her of how this was his domain where people followed his lead. He bowed over the counter and retrieved another bottle for her. The bar was packed, crowd laughing and singing, somewhere in the corner a woman had snatched who seemed to be her girlfriend and twirled her around, euphoric and full of joy, in a way that whisked away any thoughts about future or past. Chloe wondered whether she’d ever been like that years back. Not after her father had been killed. Pretty surely, she’d never been caught in a bubble that just consisted of two lovers, oblivious to anybody else.

“Where’s the piano?”, she frowned. The room gaped open with a leaking wound as if something crucial had been ripped out of its middle.

“Stored in the back for tonight”, he reassured her, “there’s not enough space for the band _and_ the piano. We can’t have it taking all the attention away from the hard-working performers, can we now?”

Grinning she shook her head, crossing her legs. Even though she felt his gaze linger on them as she did, she chose not to react. Yet the smugness that rose within her was hard to suppress.

“So, when did you start playing?”

He frowned as he pondered, “I think I was about six, when I watched my older brother play and pestered him to teach me.” A fond smile crept onto his lips. “Amenadiel told me later that he never was as skilled as me.”

She chuckled. “I bet.” She wanted to ask him whether he thought of this Amenadiel as one of his more amicable siblings, but he answered the unspoken question with a scoff.

“The bastard always tried to puppeteer me into doing Dad’s work, staying in line.” He shook his head, eyes dark, before he gulped down another mouth of hard liquor. The lines of his jaw worked bitterly. She wanted nothing more than to let her fingers caress away the hurt and resentment.

“How many siblings do you have?”, she asked instead.

“Too many”, he sighed out, “But enough about me. What about you, Detective? Do you have siblings?”

“Me?”, her eyes widened and she could swear his softened, “Mh, no”, she shook her head, “I wished I had though.”

“Agree to disagree, shall we?”, he joked.

“I don’t know”, she sighed and watched her nails peel of the label of her bottle, “it would have been fun to have someone to play with when I was younger, you know? Hell, even to fight with sometimes. Maybe things would have gone differently.”

“Differently how?”, it was rare that people regarded her with such singular focus and she revelled in it.

“My mom”, a sigh escaped her, “my mom would always drag me to auditions, try to get me to follow into her footsteps. Once it was some ad that needed a child actor, other times it would be on one of her sets. It never was _me_ , but I complied for a while, not knowing better and well… wanting to please her I guess.”

“Let me guess, high expectations are hard to meet?”

“Something like that, yeah”, she snorted, wanting to wet her lips, but her beer was already empty. Again. Reflecting glass slid towards her and she took it, gulping down the amber liquid. Scotch, not whiskey.

Lucifer took the tumbler back from her as the alcohol burned down her throat, its velvety smoothness intermingling with the bitterness of her previous drink.

“I get that”, he huffed, lips pressed together tightly, “Everything I did, in my youth at least, was to please Dad.” Her chest tightened at how his voice caught at the last word, trembling with anger and rejection.

“Shocker, it was never good enough.”

Unable to hold back, her hand came up to his cheek to get him to look at her. Puzzled his dark eyes found the light of hers and Chloe tried not to smile at how his jaw went slack.

“I think you’re giving the world more than enough, Lucifer Morningstar.”

The two of them would deny the tears that welled up in his eyes.

“Chloe”, he whispered roughly and all she could do was smile. He kissed her then, softly his lips pressed against the palm of her hand. It sent sparks along her arm, that collected inside her chest and lit a flickering fire.

Maze slammed another glass in front of them and the moment was broken.

“Against herpes”, she stated bluntly, but not without one of her razor-sharp grins, bevor she disappeared again.

“Charming”, Lucifer chortled and shook his head, while he reached out to pour her a finger or two.

“Wow”, she laughed and added a quick, “thanks” when she took the tumbler from him.

She had never been able to hold her liquor, so it came as no surprise as her world mellowed, her tongue felt light and her heart daring. Lucifer leaned backwards against the bar, hair slightly mussed and softly mouthing along to the song that was playing. A laugh rose in her chest. The man next to her turned, cocking his head with a smile that had his dimples showing. She hopped from her stool and held out her hand, eyes sparkling with brimming joy.

_Let me in where you've been_

_  
Where we gonna be this time?_

“Dance with me?”, she said, breathless and as his hand found hers she tugged him along.

Chloe felt his laugh more than she heard it. As soon as her feet encountered space to move in they moved with the music, swinging around in the rhythm of the acoustic guitar, the drums.

He shook his head at her, grinning with fondness in his features, before he took one, two steps towards her and swept her off her feet. His heart beat alongside hers as they laughed, whirled around their axis, while the world tilted around its own.

_Make me believe that you need me most_

_  
Be the real thing, don't be just a ghost  
  
_

His hands lay steady against her waist, holding her as if she was something precious, her own had slipped up his chest. The scent of whiskey – no, scotch - and his aftershave embraced her like his arms did. She heard laughter roll through his chest, felt his scruff brush along her head. It felt right and easy.

_Just for tonight, just for tonight_

_  
Forget who we are, give up and ignite_

_  
Go with me through the dark_

They stopped spinning or maybe the room did and time froze around them.

_For tonight_

Her eyes found his - god, she loved his eyes – and his hand came up to cup her cheek. It rested small in his palm, his thumb caressing it softly. Her entire being melted into it, wanted to get closer and closer for she felt seen, felt like she’d finally found _it_ even though she hadn’t been aware she’d been searching. Stretching onto her tiptoes she pulled him down and he met her on the way. Everything else bled out of existence as his lips softly caressed hers, chased them, cherished them. He seemed to be everywhere, his scent, his arms, his lips. A quiet moan escaped her throat and when his tongue slid between her lips, he was suddenly so close. Tingling took over her senses and she pressed herself closer against him, boldly stroked his lips, his tongue with hers, teased a reaction out of him. The groan that shook not only him, but also her, tugged at her lower abdomen, down between her legs.

With a breathy sigh he eventually pulled away and she couldn’t help but follow. The smile that danced on his lips, those lips that hovered so close to hers, raised a giggle in her chest. Bumping his forehead against hers he took a deep breath.

“Chloe”, it wasn’t more than a murmur.

“Lucifer”, she whispered, the same stupid grin lighting up her features.

He laughed, happy as if he couldn’t believe it, before he maneuvered them through the crowd, away from peering eyes. Not knowing what to do, other than let him move her through the patrons she relaxed. His hand rested at her lower back and her lips tingled with the ghost of his on them. Only moments later her back hit the wall somewhere further away from the band, but she didn’t even care, because he was back in her space, crowding her and then he was close, his lips on hers again, his hands on her hip, her waist. She was melting against him. The world swam from his kisses and alcohol. Lucifer pressed her closer, the broad plane of his hand tangling in her hair, carefully but insistently moving her head to the side, baring her neck. When his stubble grazed the sensitive skin, she jolted and then his lips swept along her pulse, before they lowered. He sucked at the soft skin slowly as if he took his time to taste her and she couldn’t help the breathy whine that escaped her nor the way her hands clenched against his abdomen. He tensed underneath her, his breath raggedly heaving against her ear.

“Bloody hell, _Chloe.”_

She pulled his lips back onto hers and they melted into each other. She didn’t know how long they stood, entangled in each other, making out like teenagers, but the way his hands caressed her body had her writhe in his grip. She wanted him closer. His lips sucked what would be a bruise underneath her ear, tongue sweeping across her skin and she whimpered. Not knowing what to do, how to move for she was boneless, her hand buried in his hair, the other tugging him closer. Her hips rubbed against him and the moan that escaped them in unison when his erection, hard and so close, brushed against her. It would feel so good, no scratch that it already felt so _good_.

“Lucifer _please_ ”, she panted, her body aflame with burst starlight already. He laughed, a breathless one.

“Upstairs?”, he mumbled against her, before pulling back a little in order to meet her eyes. Rubbing her legs together at the hunger in his gaze, she nodded, not without a confused frown.

“My flat”, he explained shortly, a grin spreading, before his lips crashed against hers again. It had her forgetting how to use her legs when they separated, but he didn’t seem to care.

“I can always carry you”, he said with amusement in his features and eyes veiled by lust.

“I’m good, thanks”, she answered breathless and slipped her hand into his and her heart skipped a beat when he wove his fingers between hers and gripped onto it tightly. Tugging her along he slid along the wall until he pressed against a door and they slipped through it. Grinning and giggling like teenagers sneaking out of the house to meet each other, they made their way up the stairs. When they met the top, he searched the pocket of his pants for something, his keys. Unable to stay away or wait for that matter she stepped forward and sealed their lips again. He made a funny sound at the back of his throat, before contently sighing against her lips. They melted each other and hell, how were his lips so soft? It should be illegal to kiss someone like this.

“Chloe, love, I’ll ravish you in the hallway if that’s what you desire, but we’ll never get inside at that pace”, he chuckled against her mouth.

Resigned she pulled away, jutting out her lower lip and observing with satisfaction how his pupils dilated even further.

“Spoil sport”, she smirked and gestured towards the door, “are you…?”

“Hm?”, he shook himself, before opening up his apartment, “Bloody hell, woman. See what you do to me?”

She giggled at that. “You poor devil.”

***

Rolling his eyes, he slid inside, pulling her with him. A little squeak escaped her mouth as she toppled over, only to be caught by his arm around her waist. Lust flooded her body, rushed down between her legs. She ached for him, just when he positioned himself behind her. Softly his hands brushed away her hair for him to let trail open mouthed kisses along her skin. His erection pressed against her ass and she pushed back, unable to hold back. His moan made her tremble in his embrace. Her heart thundered in her chest and she whirled around, fingers eager to get that damned shirt of him. He laughed against her lips and slid his hands up and down her waist, lower down her hips, lower, grabbing her butt. Her hands stuttered on the way down.

“Stop smirking”, she admonished lightly, continuing to open up the row of buttons and reveal light skin underneath the fabric. Her fingertips danced across his chest, exploring the muscle underneath her touch, loving the way he sucked in air, when her palms slid down his torso towards his abs.

“Alright”, he mumbled, “enough of that.” With a swift motion he picked her up and her heart lurched as she lost the floor under her feet.

“Lucifer!”

“Mhm, that’s what she said”, he chuckled as she slung her legs around him, moaning as she felt him against her core. Fucking hell. She wanted to laugh, but the hands on her ass that kneaded her muscles deliciously and his display of strength had her yearning for him to take her, to be _inside_ her, to touch her where she needed it the most. Walking them through the dark flat had her melting against him. Her hands found his tamed curls, fingers unconsciously playing with the hair at his nape, while her eyes took up bits and pieces. The silhouette of a couch and a bookshelf, a door and then it was open and she found herself on soft sheets.

He pulled away from her, the look on his face had her trembling. His shirt gaped open, defined muscle underneath it, hair tousled and eyes unbearably dark. His hands held his weight, propped up at her sides, while one of his legs knelt between hers.

“Hey”, she smiled, tingling with anticipation.

“Hi”, he grinned back, releasing a sigh. “You look heaven sent.”

She gaped a little and felt herself blushing furiously, her tummy swirling with ferocious waves, glittering and bubbling chasing each other. He leaned over her, softly pecking her lips, before expertly sliding his fingers underneath her blouse, carefully opening the buttons as she did before.

“Do you know”, he began, voice low and the way his eyes devoured her had her legs shaking, “how often I came from my shift”, the fabric was open and softly taken off of her body, exposing her skin, her bra. Her muscles tensed when his hand brushed over her belly button. Oh, how she wanted it to wander lower.

“And I imagined you like this?”, featherlight kisses ghosted across her skin, goose bumps rising as his stubble scraped lightly at her ribs, “here, in my bed. Willing. Desiring”, the bass of his voice had her arching off the mattress, “Do you know how often I needed to lay hand on myself”, his hand dipped below her shoulder blades, nudged against the clasp of her bra. He searched for her permission and when she nodded the fabric slipped off herself. “And I so desperately wanted it to be you”, he continued hoarsely, drinking her in. His fingers brushed over her breast, affectionately.

“No one else sufficed, I needed it to be you.”

A whimper escaped her and her hips searched for friction against his leg. A smirk danced across his face, she could see it in the way his teeth flashed white. Somewhere at the edge of her awareness she felt her heels falling to the floor

“Eager, are we?”, he murmured close to her ear and kissed his way lower, across her neck, the exposed swell of her breast, lingering for a bit to caress and shower them with kisses, down her belly until he arrived at the waist band of her jeans. She was panting by now.

“Lucifer”, she begged and he smiled against her skin. Quickly the button and zipper were undone and the heavy fabric pooled at her ankles.

“Turn the light on”, satisfaction rose in her chest at how wrecked he sounded. “Please, I want to see you.”

Her fingers searched for a switch on his nightstand. “Where?”

“Somewhere at the side. Left.”

Her hand finally found the cord and the light flickered on. Her heart beat faster in her chest. As the rays that the light bulb emitted crept along her body, and slowly exposed her to his gaze, she became very aware of the stretchmarks across her belly, her boobs, which could definitely be fuller and the plane Jane underwear she’d chosen to wear, that she had only shaved her legs, but not down there. She was a single mother and divorcee, who barely managed to pay her rent. And then there was Lucifer, all defined muscle and sex appeal, who had women and men alike sing his praises. When before it hadn’t bothered her in the slightest, she couldn’t meet his eye.

“Chloe?”, she swallowed as concern crept into his voice. She felt the mattress dip and him sliding up her side.

“What’s wrong?”, his hand softly cupped her cheek. The light mirrored the worried expression on his face. God, she was ruining this, wasn’t she? She just shook her head, the lump in her throat rendering her unable to speak. Besides, she was afraid she’d start crying if she did.

“What’s bothering you, love? Do you want to stop?”

Vehemently shaking her head, she swallowed and swallowed again. Her chest expanded at his attentiveness, his soft concern.

“Can…”, she cleared her throat, “Can we turn the light off again?”

Understanding bloomed in his features and he nodded. “Everything you desire.” His hand reached out and darkness enveloped the room once more.

“Thank you”, she whispered and sighed contently, when his lips found hers again. His fingers wandered up and down her sides and he pulled her closer. Shame washed away at his caress, fiery and mellow at the same time, leaving behind flames dancing under her skin. When they two of them separated he softly held her face in his hands.

“You are”, his voice rung so earnestly that it even reached and reverberated in her bones, “beautiful, Chloe. All of you.”

She nodded against his touch and whispered, “So are you.”

His mouth claimed hers once more and she melted again. He was suddenly everywhere, his hands, his mouth, his tongue and her hands pushed off the dark fabric of his shoulders. Holding her steady he flipped her back onto her back, pushing himself further down, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses on her skin, her breasts, her belly. With a jerk her butt rested at the edge of the bed, him kneeling between her spread legs. The kiss he placed over her core had her rolling her eyes back in her hand. When his lips nudged at hers through the damp fabric of her panties, she couldn’t keep her hips from grinding against him. Her skin prickled where his scruff skimmed over the inside of her thighs. His hands, his broad hands in which her hands appeared to vanish, rested on the crease where her hips met her legs. She wanted them to grab her ass again, pull her closer to his mouth.

“You’ll let me go down on you, will you?”

She nodded jerkily and under other circumstances the needy sound that escaped her would have had her blushing to the roots of her hair.

“But”, she started breathily, “I’m not... you know … shaved?”

“I don’t bloody care”, he assured her and pressed her back down onto the mattress, freeing one of his hands. She fell back and relished in his caress.

“Where do you want me?”, he asked and even though she registered his smirk she couldn’t even roll her eyes at it.

“There?”, he breathed a soft kiss at the inside of her thigh where his stubble had left burns. Her muscles shook.

“Here?”, he mumbled against her core, before pressing his mouth onto her. Need burned like electricity through her veins.

“Lucifer, _please_ ”, she whined, begged.

“I see”, he chuckled and quickly stripped her bare. Before she could utter another word, his tongue plunged between her lips, licking the valley between them. She cried out softly, her throat straining with the need to be silent.

“Let me hear you”, his voice rough against her, sending tremors through her body. His fingers softly brushed over her trimmed curls. He latched onto her, finding out how she moaned when he flicked the tip of his tongue over her clit and how she shook when he buried it inside her as deeply as he managed. Her hands found themselves in his hair, pulling him closer towards her and his groan had her walls tighten around nothing. His hands grabbed her ass, pushing her onto his mouth and his name left her lips in a chant. Lucifer was on his knees in front of her in worship and oh, how he worshipped her. His stubble left delicious burns against her inner thighs as he encouraged her grinding against his lips.

“ _Fuck, Lucifer. Please. Please”_ , nothing intelligent left her mouth as the spiral of need tightened, coiled further together like a dying star, when he worked her clit faster and faster, before it burst inside her like a super nova, swirling and bursting stars. Pleasure ran like molten gold through her body when she came down from her high. She blinked her eyes open, lazily and satisfied only to meet him grinning up at her. She fondly rolled her eyes at his smug expression and wiggled back towards the headboard.

“Come here”, she murmured and stretched out her arms, indicating her wish to hold him.

Wiping across his mouth he was about to comply, but she interrupted him. “Pants off”, she smiled.

“Trousers”, he corrected her lightly, but the sound of his belt buckle opening and his slacks falling down to the floor followed. His warm body slid across hers. She tasted herself on his lips. God, those lips. Her fingers danced up and down his spine, his sides and she grinned as he shuddered underneath them.

“Chloe”, he groaned, when her hand slid lower.

“Yes?”, she chuckled, brushing against his erection and grinning when he jerked against her.

“You are a bloody tease”, he grumbled when she pulled away to get them both underneath the blanket she’d been lying on the whole time.

“Why, thank you”, she winked and sighed happily as the cool fabric spread above them, “That was amazing by the way.”

“I’ve been told”, he smirked and she sighed.

“Sometimes you can be a real dick.”

“My d – ah”, he choked on his pun, when her small hand came around his member. The latter certainly was nowhere near small, “ _fuck._ ”

“Mr. Morningstar”, she admonished lightly, unable to keep the quip off her lips, “such crude choice of words.”

He managed a pant while pressing himself in the hollow of her hand. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, when she trailed her fingertips upwards over the front of his boxers, only to dip them under his waistband. When she wrapped them around his swollen and hot flesh he groaned against her skin. She softly pressed her lips against his shoulder, before she let them wander towards his ear.

“ _Lucifer_ ”, she moaned softly and smiled when she was rewarded with a thrust against her.

“Chloe”, he swallowed, “I…”

She moved then, up and down and his breath hitched.

“ _Please”_ , a gasp escaped him. Desire flickered through her belly, flames stocked anew.

Her teeth lightly bruised his neck, tongue soothing the soft bite.

“Please what?”

He growled against her skin and pressed himself into her. She felt him smirk against her ear as her breath hitched.

“You know what”, he whispered, accentuating his words by grazing her core with his cock, “You want it too, don’t you? Me inside you.”

She swallowed, trying to reign the need that cried out inside her. And how she wanted. Had imagined it at night with hands not too idle between her shaking legs, yearned for it now that he was so close, so hard. Would feel so good inside her.

“You wrapped around my dick”, he groaned, “Heavens, you felt so good, so hot against my tongue.”

With a last squeeze, she let go and pushed against his chest. Before he could look at her, she cut in, panting, “Condom.”

Lucifer reached towards to drawer almost instantly. He stripped his boxers, and rubber over himself, before crawling back under the covers with her. His body lay warm and somehow familiar against hers. She trailed her fingers against his spine, careful not to touch his scars. The urge to softly press her lips against them got buried deep underneath desire.

“Lube?”, he murmured against her lips as he kissed her, slowly, languidly.

She considered, let her fingers skirt between her curls.

“Mhm, a little bit”, she admitted, scooting closer towards him and he wrapped his arm around her, tucking her towards his chest. Though her nerves were vibrating with electricity, the soft kiss pressed against her temple made her melt against him. Mere moments later his hand sneaked down between her legs.

“It could be a little cold, love”, he murmured, when his fingers slipped along her lips. The cool gel did nothing to sooth the ache for him and she whimpered when one of his fingers slid inside her. More. She needed more of him.

“So tight, bloody hell”, he groaned, before he retracted his hand and rolled himself over her. His lips caressed hers, while he moved against her. Her hips followed his, her insides singing, yearning for him. She melted against his mouth. As his cock skirted around her opening again and _again_ not entering, she let something out that resembled a desperate sob.

“Lucifer, please.” His breath shook against her, when he reached between them and positioned himself at her entrance.

His dark eyes found hers in the dim light. Gently he pushed himself into her and her eyes rolled back when he stretched her wide, brushing against her walls. With each shallow thrust he rocked himself deeper into her. It felt right, it felt good and _god_ , she wanted him to move. Her hips jerked up, beyond her control.

“Good?”, he gasped, searching her face for something. She could only nod.

“ _Please”_ , fell from her lips, “ _please, please.”_

One he bottomed out inside her, he paused, chest heaving, before his lips attacked hers and he thrusted into her. Her mouth gaped open as he did. Waves of pleasure rolled along her limbs as he crashed and receded himself, filling her just right. Moans rolled over her lips as he pushed into her. She met his movements, pulled him closer towards her, into her.

“Harder”, she begged, “please. Harder.”

She heard him panting against the shell of her ear, before his teeth tugged at her earlobe, sending lightnings down her spine.

“Everything you desire”, he groaned and quickened his pace. His hand found her hair, wove strands around it and his lips worked their way along her neck. She was reduced to a mass of shivers and gasps as she felt him inside her, chasing the sparks of completion. Nothing else mattered, only his weight on her, him inside her, the shudders and tremors that wrecked her body.

She chanted his name, relentlessly, control no longer in the realm of her understanding.

“Come for me, Chloe”, he murmured against her skin, stubble brushing against it, “let me hear you.”

With a few thrusts she was at the edge and fell with a languid whine. Exhilarating and beyond her power, but when she rushed towards the ground, his arms were around her to catch her.

Her chest heaved when he slowed down his movements, arms bracketing her, propped up next to her head and she was too caught up in her haze to even roll her eyes at his smug grin. Breathlessly she patted his shoulder.

“Mhm, stop…smug, Mister”, she mumbled and moaned as his laughter shook his entire body.

“What was that?”, he teased her and pushed into her.

Gasping she glared at him. “Play nice.”

“Do I ever?”, he nudged her nose with his, the grin still in place.

Shaking her head she leaned forward, softly catching his lips with hers. Even at her blissed out state she felt him melt against her. Slowly she dragged her fingers across his sides and suppressed a satisfied smile when he shuddered and thrusted into her. She tore herself loose from their kiss and made her way down to his neck, one hand tangled in his hair, while one continued to draw patterns onto his back. Nipping and sucking her lips played with his skin, stretched into a grin as he groaned and gasped next to her ear, sped up his movements.

“That’s it”, she breathed, “faster, Lucifer.”

The choked off sound that escaped him, made her tighten around him. They rocked back and forth, his thrusts grew more forceful and her eyes rolled back into her head, when he hit that spot and -

“Oh”, she made, suddenly eyes wide as pleasure washed over her in a tsunami, cascading and unexpectedly.

“ _Chloe”_ , Lucifer cried out, softly, as he slowed and finally stilled, only shallowly moving against her.

Both their hearts beat next to each other as he sunk down onto her, holding her tightly against her. His naked skin against hers felt so familiar, so safe. A content sigh escaped her, when she snuggled further into his embrace, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. His breathing slowed gradually when he pressed a kiss against her temple. With a grumble he pushed himself up. An unhappy whine escaped her that had him chuckling.

“I’ll clean up, love. You can have me back in a minute.”

Their lips melted against each other again, before he slipped out of her with a groan. She laid there for a moment, simply breathing. Because, holy shit, she just slept with Lucifer and it had been _amazing_. She _slept_ with Lucifer. And now? What did that mean for their friendship and for Trixie and - and this was definitely something she should wreck her mind about tomorrow.

***

Rolling over to look at him she propped herself up on her elbow. Her eyes took in the scars or at least the relief of them that the dim light hinted at. Carefully her hand brushed over his hip to the side where she knew the scar of the exit wound to be. Softly her fingertips felt the bundle of connective tissue.

“Hm?”, Lucifer hummed, turning to meet her gaze.

“You done?”, she yawned, falling back into the covers.

“Impatient, are we?”

She just mumbled something unintelligible and searched for a pillow. A content sigh escaped her as he slipped into bed next to her, pulling her close. Breathing in his scent she allowed herself to snuggle up against him. His naked skin felt familiar against hers.

“You alright?”, he eventually asked, gentle in the darkness, his breathing slow and relaxed as she had bedded her head on his chest.

“Mhm, very”, she nodded into his body, “You?”

  
“Very alright”, he murmured with a grin that she could hear.

“Good”, she purred, “You are warm.”

“Oh, thank you, darling”, he teased, before he added, “You are so very beautiful. All of you.”

His voice was heavy with things he felt he couldn’t say and she felt her heart skip a beat.

“I don’t think I have ever met someone as special as you and”, he paused, pressing a light kiss to her temple, “I will be eternally grateful that your urchin bowled me over.”

The warmth that spread inside her belly had nothing to do with desire, but with feelings that she had shoved down and out of her mind. Instead of saying all the things that rested on the tip of her tongue she stretched and had his lips melting against hers, warm and safe and _homey_.

She had to suppress a yawn as they separated and he laughed.

“Tired?”

“No”, she denied and stifled urge to yawn again.

“Maybe”, she added with a sniff.

“Then it’s time for all good Detectives to go to sleep.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head in fond exasperation.

“Goodnight, Lucifer”, she said into his chest, while their legs wove into each other.

“Goodnight”, he mumbled, pressing another kiss to the crown of her hair, “sleep well. Detective.” He added as an afterthought and she smacked him lightly against his shoulder, able to hear his grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut summary: 
> 
> Chloe and Lucifer make love for the first time - very sweet and attentive - that's literally it :)


	15. Like an Albanian field wench

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after^^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning peeps!
> 
> Today 3 chapters for you because I want to get the story progressing - and I feel like I am plateauing with editing and the further writing
> 
> To all of those who are worrying! We are only roughly halfway through the story! Their journey is nowhere near resolved of finished! Not to worry! ^^
> 
> Love your comments and enthusiasm though!
> 
> Here you go guys!

Hazy light, the kind of darkness that couldn’t even be counted as such. Her body was pinned down by a weight, a heavy and warm weight, when it tried to stretch. Something tickled her ear, a breath? Beard?

Slowly she pried open her lids and blinked when she found herself in a room she didn’t recognize. Walls painted in pale cream, a wooden nightstand in front of her nose. The sheets around her brushed silkily against her naked skin. The limbs that circled her belonged to a familiar body. Who would’ve thought the devil would turn into an octopus when he was sleeping?

Trying to turn around would be futile with the dead weight pinning her down. But did it matter? Drowsiness tugged at her consciousness, pulled her under its loving wing. Instead of trying to get up she relaxed against the man next to her and let sleep take her again.

Her phone vibrated. Somewhere. Her limbs didn’t follow her lead. She needed to answer. Maybe it was Trixie. Fighting with sleep she heard the noise cease. A male voice spoke quietly at the edge of consciousness. She strained her ears to grasp what he was saying.

“Yes, she’s with me… still asleep I’m afraid – Beatrice? Yes, I can do that, just a moment.”

Feet made their way towards her.

“Wakey, wakey, detective”, a familiar voice murmured close to her ear, fingers dancing affectionately across her hair, “Your offspring wants to talk to you.”

Sight bleary, she grasped the phone and held it to her ear.

“Monkey? Everything okay?”

Cutlery moved and chatter rung in the background.

“Hey, Mommy!”, Chloe blinked hard at the exuberance that her daughter radiated, “I just wanted to ask whether I can stay with Sandy until later, because we wanted to walk Bella and I reeaaally wanna go with them! So please?”

Shit. She was supposed to pick her up at ten. Half past eight. Okay. Thank god.

“Sure”, she cleared her throat, while she pushed herself up, “No problem, Munchkin. Can you give me Sandy’s mom real quick?”

“Okay, Mommy! I love you!” Warmth spread across her skin.

“Love you too, Monkey”, she sighed and mentally prepared to talk to another adult.

She just finished planning the specifics with the other woman, when someone stepped in front of her and shielded the days light from tickling her nose.

“Yeah, Anne, thank you so much for keeping her for a while longer, but I need to go. See you.”

The amused chatter on the other side of the line faded out of her focus and she hung up. A steaming cup of coffee hovered in front of her face. The familiar scent made her mouth water.

“Thank you”, she smiled, gripping the mug with both hands and blinking up at him. Lucifer chuckled softly, clad in boxers and – was that a robe? She took a sip and sighed contently as the bitter liquid spread across her tongue. Almond milk? She didn’t brush her teeth yesterday night.

“Good morning, Detective”, he grinned down at her, taking in her probably rumpled appearance.

She groaned and hid her body further under the warm sheets. “Come back here”, she patted on the mattress.

“Some one’s a sleepy head”, he mused, but did as she asked.

“Why are you so cheery?”, she grumbled, taking another sip and leaned back against his headboard, her head dropping against his shoulder. He chuckled and hesitantly wound his arm around her torso as if he were afraid, she’d push him away.

“Well, it has certainly nothing to do with me having a beautiful woman in my bed”, he shook his head fondly at her, “or the spectacular night we spent together.”

The … Oh, right. That was that. The statement hung between them and neither of them wanted to deal with the implications of it.

“Mhm”, she sighed, “are you aware you nearly squished me with your limbs at night?”

“I most certainly did nothing of that sort”, he protested.

“You did too”, she teased, “you could as well have been an octopus and I wouldn’t have noticed a difference.”

“I beg your pardon?”, he sat a little more upright, “That’s preposterous, Detective! At least I don’t _snore_.”

She whirled around to gape at him. “I-“

“Like an Albanian field wench”, he continued, proud of his analogy.

“I”, she stuttered, “I do that sometimes”, turning back, pouting, “when I’m drunk.”

He grinned at her. “You are endearing by the way.”

And her face flushed again, she could feel it. Her hair must resemble a bird’s nest and her eyes were puffy. Along with morning breath she was nothing even resembling _endearing._

“Thanks”, she grumbled instead and continued fueling her body with the obligatory caffeine that it needed to be up and running. His fingers drew circles along the fabric bunching at her midriff. Chloe knew they were stalling. Both of them were afraid that it would change something. Maybe they weren’t ready for things to change. But then again, was one ever one hundred percent ready? As well as they ignored the chemistry between them before, they could not do that anymore. For heaven’s sake they just slept together and were now staring into nothing to avoid talking about it.

“So”, she cleared her throat, the same moment he spoke up.

“Detective –“

“Sorry!”, she hastened to say, “You first.” Truth was, she wasn’t even sure what she wanted to say.

“I apologize”, he sighed, before continuing, “So”, he cleared his throat glancing at her, “What was that about ‘just friends’?”

She snorted and shook her head, before she let it drop against the headboard.

“I”, she released a breath, “look, I wasn’t lying before. The whole thing with _Detective Douche_ shook me up pretty badly and I wasn’t ready for anything really. I”, she glanced up at him. His eyes lay softly on her, “I really like you. And I don’t know what this”, she gestured between them, “is, but”, she took a deep breath, “I think I wanna see where this could take us, you know?”

A small smile danced across his lips. “It can be whatever you want it to be.”


	16. As ever as the evergreens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stagnating investigation and a mysterious call

“What do you mean they still haven’t found him?”

Chloe could hit her head against her table. They’d put out an APB on Blake Stewards and the man was still untraceable. 

“We’ve alerted all precincts to be on the look-out. Don’t know whether he left the city or if he just lays it low, until the storm passes.”

A groan escaped her as she hid her face in her fingers, raking through her greasy strands. _Endearing_ her ass.

“That sucks”, she muttered, wheels turning inside her head, “Okay, okay, okay.”

_Think, Chloe._ Taking in a deep breath, she collected her thoughts.

“Have someone interview Riley again and make sure you check in with his mother and brother, I’ll send you the address. Maybe someone knows something.”

“Alright I got it”, Maria nodded sharply, “What are you going to do?”

“I’ll see if his roommate, Michaelnova, can tell us anything”, gathering her phone, she murmured to herself, “let’s do this.”

“Right, just, Chloe”, the furrow of the woman’s brow screamed at her senses, “Narcotics is on this.”

“Well, they can’t have it”, she growled out, “So far there’s been no record of an overdose via Eden, even though it has been circulating in New York for years according to Riley. So, this has to be either premeditated or a new mix that could be potentially harmful. We have to find him and get his statement.”

“I know”, her partner groaned, shoulders straightening, “ok, I’m on it.”

“Right”, with that she turned her attention back to her phone. He hadn’t answered her message yet, but he was probably busy at the club. She shouldn’t sit here, worry about his texting habits like a lovesick, insecure teenager with a potential murderer on the loose.

She grit her teeth, relaxed them again, lifted the phone to her ear.

“Miss Michaelnova? We’d like to ask you to come into the station for a follow up please.”

“Thank you for agreeing to meet us.”

The cold metal of the table between them stung her skin through the fabric of her thin shirt.

“Whatever I can help with”, the woman said, forehead creased in long lines.

“We are on the lookout for Blake Stewards. Do you know anyone he would normally stay with?”

Silver rings left a rapping sound on the surface of the table as she drummed her fingers against it.

“I don’t – I’m not sure”, a hint of Russian accent tilted her words, “Sometimes he would stay in our place, with”, she swallowed, “with Marco. But others… like he sometimes mentioned a – a brother? Richard? Rico? I’m not sure.”  
  


“Okay”, Chloe nodded, putting down the names, “Thank you so much. Is there anything else you can tell me about him? Has he a partner? Do you know, if he could be staying at a fellow gang member’s place?”

Again, the frown.

“I”, she paused, “no girlfriend, no. But he, well he does hook up with a lot of women. So maybe he tried to convince one of them to stay with them?”

“Hm”, not very likely, but they could give it a try, “We’ll look into it. Any names?”

The woman’s pale cheeks were billowing, eyes lined with coal widening. “I don’t know. When I say a lot, I mean a lot. Like. Marco always said that he has some kind of complex.”  
  


“Okay, so can you give me an estimate for the last month?”

“25 to 30 maybe.”

Chloe sighed, “Dearie me. Okay, so are there any-“

She paused when Michaelnova stared at her.

“Uhm”, she made, unsure of how to continue, “is everything alright?”

Shaking her head as if to snap herself out of it, she straightened her posture.

“No! Sorry. It’s just something Evja – ah, a friend of mine always said. But, sorry. Not important.”

“Okay, so… any names that you can remember? Maybe from conversations or?”

“So, there’s one name I remembered, because she is in the same course as I am. Lena Plier. And Jane, something I think? And a Caroline. Redhead if that helps.”

“Anything can be valuable”, she agreed, “What about the friend of yours? Evja was it? Did she have contact with him too?”

“Evja?”, the woman shook her head with a beginning grin, “besides the fact that she’s way too smart for an idiot like him, no. She’s still at home in Russia. She’ll visit sometime, but no, no contact.”

“Okay, thank you. Is there anything else you can add?”

“I don’t think so, but I will contact you, right?”, a small smile in Chloe’s direction. Her head hurt.

“Excellent”, she forced herself to answer, polite and grateful as ever. She raised form her seat. “You have been very helpful.”

* * *

Sunlight fell through the small windows on the top of the ornate wall. Swirls of gold reflected in crystal and amber and drew intricate patterns onto the floor. Shimmering like rays of morning on the pond they’d had in their backyard they hit the sleek black of the Steinway.

His fingers danced across the keys, adding swaying melodies to the sound of cars rushing by, drifting in through the windows. While his heart sung with vigour about the mellow hours spent with the woman in his arms, fierce and affectionate and witty and all the things he loved in a lover and a partner - _partner_ \- his gut churned with unease, shallow and sickening. It had felt the same way with Eve. The same ferociousness and power, that had made him believe he could face the world, that he could stand up against his father and the empire he’d built. He swallowed hard at the sudden sense of longing that washed over him. Clear laughter and thick locks of coal that always reminded him of summers spent hiding in the forests that stretched evergreen and languid over the backbone of the hills, before his mother would finally find him. His mother.

No. Not going there. He’d experienced how it ended, had had his heart torn out of his chest. There it was again, the fear in the back of his mind. He could not lose Chloe. He would not allow it. He had left his family behind. They didn’t know where he was or maybe they did? They hadn’t acted in five years if they knew of his location, so why would they now? But could he risk it?

Anger lurked underneath his skin and spun nets of doubt in his veins, that had his heart clenching. He’d keep her safe. Her and her little urchin. He would not let harm come upon them. But he’d thought the same thing about Eve. Swore himself to protect her at all costs. That did her whole lot of good, didn’t it? The ball curling in his stomach coiled itself tighter. Lucifer let out a breath and leaned onto his forearms, propped against the piano’s top. How could he ever give her all she deserved? How could he be with her when it would put her in danger? Her and her family.

A buzzing sound tore him out of his head. A frown creased his forehead. Another message from the Detective for him to ignore, because he was so caught up in his ruminations? His phone continued ringing. Apprehension gripped the back of his neck and he forced himself to relax.

“Lucifer Morningstar?”

The expected answer never came. Instead nothing but soft in- and exhales sounded through the speaker.

“Hello? Who is this?”

Nothing. The darkness broke loose from where it had been stuffed in a prison in a far corner of his consciousness. The caller hung up. A glacier of fear flooded his entire being.


	17. Two steps back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe finally decides to pay Lucifer a visit, because - why on earth is he ghosting her? - she gets answers she hasn't expected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright peeps - that's the last one for today 
> 
> please read with care - this chapter involves loss and grief, mentions of self mutilation and other painful things from Lucifer's past!
> 
> Also: short mention of colonialism - please read with care for those of my readers who are affected by the outcome of it and feel it through racism and white supremacy! I see you. You matter. You are valid. 
> 
> this is an angsty one^^
> 
> lots of love

It had been three days and he hadn’t answered her texts. A part of her wanted to ignore the fact and go on with her life, because she was Chloe Decker and she most certainly did not need a man to assure her she was wanted and loved. But it stung. It stung because they’d seemed so damn happy, he seemed so damn happy when they’d kissed goodbye. He’d – she swallowed down her hurt – he’d grinned at her with so much affection in his eyes as she turned to go, before he’d pulled her back into another searing kiss.

Having made up her mind she eventually decided to pay him a visit. She’d see whether he was there and if he wasn’t, well she could always ask Maze. The initial worry that had grabbed her had subsided after Ella informed her that he was still very active posting on Instagram and Twitter. Not that she cared. Or checked. She did definitely not stare at his pictures when she was lying in bed at night and missed him but wouldn’t even think about admitting it.

Only few would come to Y’s Gawen at this time of day. Chloe made her way straight to the bar, ignoring the looks she got at the badge that was still attached to her hip.

“Maze?”, she called, set on keeping her voice level, “You here?”

A rustling sound, then she crawled from somewhere under the bar like the demon Lucifer had called her. Dark eyes peered at her, twinkling in the dim light.

“What’s up, Decker?”

“How are you doing?”, she asked, awkwardly, not wanting the woman to feel like the only reason she visited her was the fact that she needed information.

“I’m good. What do you need? You don’t just march into my bar like a woman on a mission just to ask me about how I am.” Her gaze flickered up and down her figure.

“You’re right”, she sighed, “Is Lucifer in? Or like, upstairs? I gotta talk to him.”

Realization dawned on the woman’s face, eyebrows wandering up her forehead.

“Yeah, he’s upstairs.”

“Thanks”, she smiled at her, before turning to go.

“But Decker”, Maze’s voice sounded harsh through the room.

“What?”

“He – well – he’s not good.” The dark look distorted the bartender’s attractive features, a mixture between screaming danger and promising honey.

_He’s not good._ Her heart sunk. Why hadn’t he reached out to her? She thought - well, maybe it had been a mistake to even go there – but she’d believed they could trust each other. Apparently not.

“Okay, thank you”, Chloe answered, her boots leaving clacking sounds on the floor that echoed through the place. Dread boiled up inside her stomach and she tried her damned hardest to shove the unpleasant feelings and doubts in a box far, far gone in her mind. First evidence, then conclusions.

Slipping through the door in the back, she squared her shoulders and made her way up the staircase. When it had been dipped into pale light before, it appeared unsettlingly light and clinical compared to the bar down below. She didn’t even know what to say. _Hey, Lucifer, you haven’t been answering my texts and I want to know why you’re being a dick and are ghosting me?_

No, better not. Not that she had time left now that she stood in front of his door, hand raised for a knock. Her stomach was being ridiculous and she gulped down the lump that had contently curled itself up against her larynx. Her knuckles caused a rapping noise to reverberate through the narrow and way too silent hallway. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other to the other to the other, while her fingers played with the hem of her sleeves.

Footsteps sounded through the thin door, quietly and then more and more pronounced. The rustling of a door chain sounded and a pale face appeared in front of her.

“Detective-“, he begun, but she didn’t wait for his explanation and slipped between him and the door into his flat. He stared at her, taken aback, frown between his brows. On every other circumstance she would’ve listened to him, let him direct her away, but not today. He looked like shit. It worried her. Toeing off her shoes, she made her way into the small living area.

A confused sound escaped him as he followed her.

“What’s wrong, Lucifer?”, she inquired, cutting down the usual shebang of niceties and greetings.

“What?”, he stated dumbly.

Rubbing her temples she sunk down onto the soft leather of the couch, sorting her thoughts.

“Look”, she begun, gesturing at him, “You look like a homeless magician, all moody and broody and”, she bit her lip, swallowing profusely, before continuing a little more timidly, “You haven’t answered any of my texts.”

Lucifer stood in the middle of the room, the dark silk – or was it viscose? - of his robe tied together neatly at his waist, unable to form proper sentences, apparently. His jaw clenched and relaxed as if he was searching for words that wouldn’t leave his lips. Silence spread heavily over them.

“And, you know”, Chloe spoke up again, because – she couldn’t _stand_ this any longer, “If you… if you don’t want - you know?”, he frowned at her, growing more and more confused, “If we – like - if it was just a fling to you, you can just tell me. I’m not mad, I promise, but…” She felt her eyes welling up. God _damn_ it.

Shock gripped his features and _finally_ words rushed out of his mouth.

“No! Detective – Chloe, no”, he took a few swift steps towards her, “it wasn’t just some one-night stand to me. It wasn’t, I promise.”

“Then why are you being like this?”, she gestured at his appearance, “I just… I just wanna understand.”

The cushion next to her dipped as he sat down next to her. His scent enveloped her and she could have melted against him right there. She turned towards him, just to find him raking his hands through his black strands.

“I”, he opened his mouth, snapped it shut again, “I _want_ you. Don’t ever doubt that – I do. But…”, his gaze bared himself raw and open for her, “I cannot risk losing you.”

Her chest tightened painfully. Carefully reaching for his hand she tried to soothe him.

“You won’t lose me, Lucifer. I know my job is dangerous, but…”

“It’s not your job I’m worried about”, he mumbled, staring into nothing, worry etched deep into the lines around his eyes.

What? If not that, what else would be a danger to her?

“Is this”, she tugged at her lower lips, not knowing whether to continue, “is this about what happened to Eve?”

Even though she’d tried her best to keep her voice calm and soft, he flinched away from her as if she’d hit him.

“Yes”, he hissed out between grit teeth, “of course it is.”

“Lucifer, those things”, she searched for words to soothe his grief, “those things, accidents, they can always happen. There’s nothing you could have done.”

“ _Yes, there is!”_ , suddenly he was up and pacing, eyes wild, “I should’ve just stayed away from her and she would still be here! She would still be bloody alive, Detective! I cannot”, he panted out, jaw clenching as he talked himself into a frenzy.

“Lucifer, come sit down with me”, she tried to reason with him, using the same technique she’d found to work on emotionally instable shooters.

“I will bloody well not let you get harmed because of _them_.”

Her body froze in its tracks.

“Them?”

“Yes!”, he snapped, eyes flickering across the room as if something was lurking in the shadows, “They shouldn’t even know I’m here, but I can’t know that, can I? What if they found out?”

“They? They who?”, sharp her voice cut through the tension that radiated from him.

“All of them. My family. I don’t know who exactly. Maybe Uriel. He’d always tried to get me out of the way. Maybe he sent Remiel”, he muttered more to himself, while his hands fisted his hair.

Uriel? Remiel? What the fuck was wrong with this family? Why would they be coming for him? This didn’t make any sense! And he wouldn’t stop _pacing_! If anything, it got even more erratic.

“Your family? What has that to do with your family? Why would they come for you?”

“Everything, Detective! And yes, of course I bloody do!”

“What did your family do, Lucifer? What did _they_ do?”, the agitation in her chest grew unbearable. She needed answers, she needed context.

“First Eve, it’d make sense if they take you next”, he whispered to himself. She could see his fucking fingers shaking.

“Eve? You mean the accident”, she prodded. Bile rose in her esophagus.

“Yes, they did it! They took her away from me, they will take you too!”

She couldn’t just sit here any longer and listen to him ramble. She couldn’t. Her feet tore her up from her position on the couch, rushed over to him and she gripped his wrists tightly. He halted in his step, staring down at her with wide eyes as if bewitched by her mere touch.

“Lucifer!”, she snapped at him and he fell silent, his chest heaving, “I want you to take a deep breath, okay?” She nodded with him as she instructed him to suck in air through his nose and out through his mouth. “And now I want you answer my question as slowly and clearly as you can, okay? Can you do that for me?”

Her tone was crafted out of steel, but its cutting edges were mellowed by her eyes and touches. She needed him to calm down, even though she was about to rip his heart open with her questions. Her gut twisted and turned as if it tried to wrench itself out of her body.

He nodded shallowly, eyes glazed obsidian, framed by bloodshot rims.

“I want you to explain to me what happened to Eve.”

The mewling sound that tore itself loose from his throat broke her heart into a million pieces. Tears welled up in her eyes, hot and merciless.

“Okay?”, she added as softly as she could, fingers travelling up to frame his face, to cup his cheeks with her hands.

“They”, he ground out, “Eve and I were together for nearly five years and”, he swallowed, dam breaking.

A lonesome tear tore itself lose and ran down his cheek, under her fingers. As if encouraged by the pioneer, the rest followed, silent rivulets on his skin.

“And I started to lean up against Dad- I shouldn’t have, Chloe. I shouldn’t ‘ve! And - and Uriel came to me. He… he said that”, he sucked in air, gaze everywhere but on her, “That if you’re going too fast, how would you stop before you hit the wall? And I- I didn’t understand.”

Her heart was ferociously pounding in her chest, she could hear her own blood pumping through her body.

“Then the cops knocked at my door”, his voice sounded hoarsely through the apartment, “That’s when I knew. It’s- it’s not in the official report, but they”, a whimper slipped across his lips, “they cut the brakes. And accelerator in the hood and I- I can’t. I…”

“Okay”, she nodded, her own tears spilling over her cheeks, while grief and anger set her chest aflame. How could the police sweep something like this under the rug? This was premeditated murder! How could his family not be charged?

Carefully she pulled him down into her arms, hugging him closely to her. His body shook against hers, while her shirt soaked up his tears and snot. How he was still standing she did not know. How he hadn’t sought out justice for Eve she couldn’t fathom either. Maybe he had to escape the pain, but even so he could’ve gotten himself a proper lawyer and reported it. When she’d gotten the message that her Dad had been killed she could’ve torn apart the world in rage, before grief and depression washed over her.

She didn’t know for how long they stood like this, only that her back stung reproachfully and that her arms started feeling numb. After a little eternity, he finally straightened himself, drying his cheeks with the sleeves of his robe.

“Come sit with me”, she coaxed, walking backwards toward the sofa. His hand clutched onto hers like a lifeline as she lead him towards the leather and made him sit. Her chest felt hollow and burnt out, but she’d had worse and had pushed through it. His pain made her chest contract painfully as if someone tugged forcefully at her heartstrings. She slid in the space next to him and once again pulled him into her, for him to crash against her. Soft black strands were parted by her fingers as they sat.

“Why weren’t they prosecuted?”, she whispered into the silence when the question burned like venom on her tongue.

He sucked in a shuddering breath, shoulders stiffening under her cheek. “Not possible, I’m afraid.” Hollow and devoid of hope his words sent a shiver down her spine.

“Why?” Corruption. Money. Power. Discrimination.

“Right”, she flinched back at the bitter cynicism that whipped through the air, “let me just quickly report an eon old crime syndicate. Not like that was the first one.”

She stilled in her ministrations and the floor dropped beneath her feet, the couch she was sitting on swayed. Crime syndicate. Drug production. Hired hitmen and enforcers. Kidnapping. Laundered money. Human trafficking. Her nearly boyfriend was the son of a crime lord.

“Fuck.”

He snorted, but even through the insistent ringing in her ears it sounded watery.

“Taking the words right outta my mouth, Detective.”

Her feet screamed to jump up and start pacing as she always did when she had to think and digest new leads, but her brain didn’t get that far. Numbly her limbs were attached to her body. _Information_. She needed information as long as her peripheral nervous system did not react to any impulses.

“What’s the name?”, her voice felt clipped and as if detached from herself, but maybe it was.

“ _Caelum_. Ironic bastards. Take a wild guess why my siblings were called Raphael and Metatron.”

“Cealum?”

“No, _Caelum_. The Latin word for sky or heaven.”

Her neurons finally regained control, at least over her thought processes and were firing rapidly. Lucifer. Heaven. Satan. Remiel. Uriel. God. Cardiff. _He’s not good_. Kicked out by his family. Passion and free will. Eve. Scars. Scars from bullet wounds and knife cuts.

“Wings”, she blurted out. He startled upright, nearly knocking her over with his shoulder.

“What did you say?”

_Finally,_ her legs obeyed her demands. Getting up she paced along the length of his living room.

“You said that the scars on your back come from where you cut your wings off and that your father gave them to you. What are they? I’m hella sure they’re not tattoos, because you would’ve been able to get them lasered. Even if you wouldn’t have wanted anybody to find you. Those people can be discreet. So, what were they?”

He regarded her for a long moment and piece by piece he drew up his mask again.

“Aren’t you a clever Detective?”, he leered, but it was as fake as half of Hollywood’s boobs.

“What were they?”

She knew her _this is an interrogation, don’t bullshit me_ voice had worked as his walls crumbled again and his features were enveloped by darkness. Leaning forward on his forearms he looked up at her, grimace distorting the lines of his mouth. She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

“He branded me, alright? Two angel wings slapped onto my back as if I were bloody cattle, but right. There you go: How to make an angel 101.”

She blinked. His own father had branded him with glowing steel pressed into his own flesh and blood’s skin. _Fuck_. She swallowed.

“What did you use to cut them off with?”

“A karambit”, he had adjusted to her professionality that she tried her very best to uphold.

“A”, she blinked at him, before her hand came up to grip the bridge of her nose, “Lucifer, a knife like that-“

“Is perfectly legal to possess in New York City as long its blade length is below four inches and it’s not carried in public”, he cut in and had her pausing. He was right though.

“Yeah, it better was that.”

“3.5 inch blade, upper drawer of my nightstand if you need to inspect it, Detective.”

No quip about other lengths more than those 3.5 inches.

“I’m good, thanks.”

Gathering her spit to push it down her throat, she raked her fingers through her hair.

“Have you been to the hospital afterwards?”

“No.”

Before she could respond to this – because what an idiot – he continued, “Maze tended the wounds. She has quite some experience from back in Capetown.”  
  


“Okay”, Chloe couldn’t do much else but nod, “Okay.”

“Okay?”, Lucifer stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. She stared. And stared. At this man who sung with his heart on his sleeve and music at his fingertips, who was the sweetest and most oblivious when interacting with her daughter and had the maturity of a twelve year-old and made her laugh with his never-ending innuendos, who treated her as if she was the most precious thing he’d ever been able to lay his hands on. At this man who went to therapy once to twice a week to deal with the death of his girlfriend who’d been murdered by his family. His family, which was crime syndicate in England. Which had branded him with burning steel.

“No.” She swallowed down her tears, while he didn’t look any better.

“I thought so”, he sounded resigned, voice flat, while his eyes travelled to everywhere but hers.

“I mean”, her words trembled, “How could any of this be okay? I mean look at what they’ve done to you. How – how would this ever be okay?”

He just nodded, lips a fine line of bitterness. “Don’t let yourself be fooled, though, Detective.”

Her eyebrows raised in silent question, while her stomach filled with lead.

“I did”, he huffed a breath, blinking hard, while his face equaled a grimace, “I did things that I’m not proud of. Horrific things.”

“Like?” Cold and hard. At least that was what she wanted her words to sound.

“I hurt people. Badly. Made sure they got the punishment they deserved. At least what father deemed to be just. I was good at it I guess.”

She just nodded. “Did you enjoy it?” The question was barely above a whisper, while every fiber in her being dreaded the answer, recoiled at the mere thought of a _yes._

“Why would anybody _enjoy_ being pushed into a job that puts the fear of God into people? He vilified me. He made me – he…”

His distress was palpable, thick and stinging.

“Okay. You don’t have to, Lucifer.”

“No, see? That’s just it!”, he had jumped up and was now gesturing wildly, arms flailing and tremors wracking his words, “You deserve to know! You deserve to know that – what I’ve done! You… you – Chloe – I don’t deserve you. Or your goodness.” 

Her chest tightened painfully.

“First of all, I decide what I do and what I don’t deserve”, she stated alas not as calmly as she wanted to. She was still sorting through her thoughts as she went and her brain wasn’t catching up with the information it was receiving.

“And – and, look”, she raked through her hair, while approaching him, “I don’t tell you stuff too, like sure there things I’m not proud of too and – look, I appreciate that you share all this with me, but – it’s okay. You deserve good things in life. Don’t try to push that away.”

“But –“

“No but’s, Lucifer. Can we”, she took another step closer, “Just slow down a little? I think my brain is about to explode.”

That elicited a bitter snort from him, but hey, it was something. He stared down at her, before he - after a long while – nodded.

“Alright”, hoarse the word fell from his lip, “I presume we could. I suppose you unquenchable thirst for answers in not stilled yet?”

“Nowhere near”, she shook her head, tension slowly bleeding out of her shoulders, before she let herself fall onto the couch next to him. For a moment she just allowed herself to breathe.

Bile rose in her throat as another thought came to life, vivid and recent.

“What about Eden? Is – is _Caelum_ also involved in that?”

The moment he took to gather his thoughts said enough.

“I”, he said, but she cut in.

“What do you know about my case? I swear Lucifer, if you’ve been impeding or obstructing this investigation on purpose…”

“I’ve most certainly not! I haven’t been in the loop for five years! Or longer! Why do you think they killed Eve? I rebelled, refused to carry out orders. She was a warning sign.”

His agitation was palpable.

“Right. Okay”, _crucial piece of information_ ,

”So, what do you know about Eden? Aside from the things you’ve already given me.”

“Not much more, Detective. Eden was first introduced to the market about ten years ago. First in the UK and what were its colonies – I loathe this word by the way. I mean – where are we? In the 17th century? - but I digress. It’s been circulating since then, costs a little fortune, that many clients are more than willing to pay. It’s flooded the market three years after its introduction. It’s a pretty safe drug if you take it correctly and don’t accidentally set free the carbon monoxide that can form.”

“Which Sanchez did”, Chloe concluded, mind working furiously, “Thank you.”

Sitting there, her forehead rested in her hands she let her brain do the work. This was so much bigger than she’d anticipated. It would take some time to digest all of it. Focusing on her breath she sat and tried to break through the surface of the whirling sea that was her mind.

“I’m sorry, Detective.”

Confused she lifted her head, blinking at him. Apparently, her brain had decided to take five.

“What for?”

He looked at her with what resembled regret, but she couldn’t make the necessary connections. What on earth was he sorry for? He brought his hands up to his face, burying it inside them, before he decided to direct his eyes back to her.

“For all of this. I shouldn’t have brought you into all of this.”

He must be kidding her.

“Lucifer, I’m glad that I know.”

“What?”, his bewildered expression would have been hilarious under any other circumstances. She slipped one of her legs underneath her body to turn towards him.

“I’d rather know about your past and what you’ve been through as to stand by and have no damned clue about what is happening.”

He shook his head, leaning against the backrest in what only could be described as exhaustion.

“No, that’s just it. You shouldn’t have to bother with any of this! You shouldn’t have been involved in any of this. You have your urchin to worry about, you don’t need my drama preoccupying your mind. I”, he released a wary sigh, glancing at her, “I should’ve stayed away. It would be for the best.”

Her heart sunk in rapid free fall, causing a lump to rise in her throat. Subconsciously Chloe shook her head. Goosebumps traveled along her spine to her arms.

“No, no, no, no”, she mumbled under her breath before she spoke, “I…I thought you _did_ want this? Me?” She hated how weak she sounded, as if she depended on his affection. But maybe she did. A little.

She heard him swallow more than she saw it. “I… I do. But, Detective, this won’t work. I _can’t_ – not in good conscience – be with you. I – I _can’t_.” 

Even though a part of her had been prepared for this, it still hurt like a bitch. She bit her lip in order to stop those stupid tears that were brimming in her eyes from falling.

“O-okay.” It really wasn’t.

From the corner of her eye she saw him reach out as if to comfort her, but he stopped himself halfway. Limply his arm fell down onto the leather.

“I’m sorry”, he whispered and she could have sworn he held tears back himself.

Not managing more than a nod, she slowly got up, her hand blindly reaching for her bag.

“I… I should go.”

“Very well.”

“Okay”, she pressed out, “Bye.”

She knew his gaze followed her as she went. Her heart thumped madly against her ribcage, while her skin burned with hurt and shame. How could she have thought anyone would want her enough to be with her? Dan didn’t. Lucifer didn’t. Biting her lip until she tasted iron and blood to hold back her tears until she was out of this hellhole, she made her way to the door, pulling on her shoes. She was so, so stupid. She should just have gotten the message when he ghosted her. Crime syndicate past or not.

Thundering feet startled her with her hand on the doorknob. With sight vailed by tears and a whine rising in her chest, she stared at him and Lucifer at her. Her heart was crying out with hope, while she stood frozen. He looked at her as if his mind was reeling and she just wanted to go. This was painful enough already.

“Chloe”, with a few steps he was right in front of her, invading her personal space. His eyes wide open and wild, he focused on her.

“Damn it all to hell. All of them”, he was breathing heavily, his hands cupping her face.

“What”, was all she got to say, before his lips crashed against hers. For a moment she froze, before melting against him, her arms coming around him. It felt like the first relieved exhale when one came home after an exhausting day. He was warm and flush against her.

She managed to detach herself from him to mumble against his lips, “That means?”

He kissed her again, less desperate this time. “It means that I don’t bloody care”, his voice rough, his breath mingling with hers, “If they want to get to you or the urchin they’ve got to deal with me first.”

The feeling, that rose in her chest at that, cursed through her veins, nearly bringing tears to her eyes again. The simple fact that he’d included her Monkey in his thought process meant the world to her.

“I’m a grown woman”, she chuckled, hands linking in his neck, “I can take care of myself.”

“I know”, he agreed easily, pressing another peck to her lips, “I’ll protect you anyway.”

She shook her head with a fond smile, before she nuzzled her nose against the crook of his neck. Lucifer sighed contently, hugging her closer to him. Holding onto each other they swayed. Her body seemed to have caught up with the emotional rollercoaster as it melted into his embrace.

“So”, she began, mumbling against his skin, warm and smelling like his cologne, “we’re doing this?”

“If you’ll have me”, he whispered back and as she nodded against his neck, she felt the little vibration of his laugh.

“Soo..?”

The suggestive undertone in his question made her grin. Leaning back, she kissed him softly.

“As much as I’d like to take you up on your offer, I have a _spawn_ to get back to.”

“You’re leaving?”, he looked at her, crestfallen. It nearly made her forget the conversation they’d just had. Well, kissing helped too. A lot, if she was being completely honest.

“Yeah, I promised her to come home a little earlier today. The APB we put out hasn’t gotten any hits ‘til now.”

“Oh”, he contemplated, while he pressed another peck to her lips, “I suppose you have to go then.”

“I mean”, Chloe bit her lip and felt the familiar tug in her lower abdomen that wandered lower between her legs as his eyes darkened and fell to her mouth, “You _do_ have to finish a picture with Trix so...”

“I see. I can’t leave the offspring hanging, can I?”

“No, you really can’t.”

“I’ll better get dressed then.”

A grin broke loose and lit up her whole face as she looked up to him. He smiled down at her, before he kissed her again. A little squeak escaped her at the force he poured into it.

“You’re so bloody beautiful when you smile like that”, he mumbled against her lips, pecking them again, “But I’ll better get ready. We can’t leave the spawn waiting. Give me five.”

“Yes, you better do”, she nodded with a giggle feeling like back in high school, when she’d had her first date with her die-hard crush. He grinned at her and winked before he disappeared to get dressed. She tried to calm the excitement that bubbled up inside her chest by taking a deep breath.

Pulling her phone out of her back pocket, she sent off a text to Trixie.

**Lucifer is coming with me to finish his drawing with you. Okay?**

She chuckled to herself, pushing back the nastier parts of the last half an hour. She’d unpack all that in the privacy of her bedroom with her laptop, caffeine and a notebook or two. Right now she was focusing on the butterflies that were wreaking havoc inside her stomach at the thought of the man that was probably just deciding on which dress shirt to wear. Maybe she should’ve offered him her help. She exhaled as blood rushed to her cheeks at the thought of his body over hers. Oh man. Her phone alerting her tore her away from that particular line of thought.

_Yey! Do you think he’ll bring me chocolate cake again?_

She snorted out a laugh.

“What is it, Detective?”, a warm voice said right next to her ear and if she hadn’t already heard his footsteps she would’ve flinched, but instead she turned around.

“Wanna bribe my daughter into liking you more by bringing her chocolate cake?”

His eyes lit up with glee. “Do I ever?”


	18. Motherflunker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some romantic New York fire escape things, a mumbled motherflunker - and what about those scars?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> explicit content peeps XD

Her daughter had finally come down from her sugar high and been out like a light as soon as her head had hit the pillow. With a fond chuckle she pulled the door close, not without lingering in the doorway. It had been quite a while since she and Trix had laughed that much, but Lucifer’s suggestions of what Disney characters really should’ve done had been hilarious. (“No, you bloody idiot! Aren’t the creepy voodoo vibes he’s giving off enough of a warning sign? I mean – you can see the bugger’s belly button!”) His agitation at some animated person’s life choices had been both, ridiculous and endearing.

The picture of his piano had been finished quickly and sported now a stick figure Chloe and Trixie, next to a smiling stick figure devil, with horns and tail and a suit. (“I’m one hundred percent sure that the devil has none of those preposterous things”, he had grumbled, but Chloe had caught the way the corners of his mouth tugged upwards.)

And even though he had protested at her daughter’s insistence to put the drawing onto his fridge, she was sure the outside of his sleek, silver fridge door was exactly where she would find it. She shook her head and her thoughts off, while walking back into the living area.

“Is the urchin finally tired?”, Lucifer grinned at her, leaning against the kitchen counter.

She nodded with a smile and took the cup of tea from him that he offered her. Even if his dark dress shirt and vest were out of place, his relaxed posture and sock clad feet that slid over the parquet made up for it.

“Out like a light”, she murmured fondly as she stepped into his space, craning her neck upwards to meet his lips.

She sighed happily against him, before they broke apart. She deliberately pushed aside the revelations of the day, wanting nothing more than to stay blissfully oblivious for a little while longer.

“I think I like where this is going”, he said, voice kept low. Chloe snorted and brushed back a strand of her hair that fell out of her ponytail to tickle her nose.

“Wanna do something really romantic and adventurous?”, she barely managed to keep the amusement out of her question.

The corner of his mouth curled upwards, while his eyes wrinkled and lord, he was stunning like this.

“Lead the way, Detective.” 

With a smirk, she took a sip of her tea, before making her way over to her room _very_ consciously swaying her hips as she walked.

“Oh, yes. Lucifer likes”, she heard him purr as he followed her and only for the sake of her daughter’s sleeping routine she managed to keep herself from bursting out into laughter.

She led them into her room - well, more of a shoebox than a room – closing the door behind them, before taking his hand into hers and pulling him towards her fire escape.

He barked out a laugh.

“How very New York of you.”

“Right?”, she snickered and carefully pulled open her window, welcoming the fragrance of petrol and dust into her room. The metal under her clanked as her feet hit its bars.

“Come on”, she gestured at him, “Give me your cup, I’ll hold it.”

“I’m perfectly capable of holding my own tea, Detective”, he teased, sliding through the opening with an elegance that she would never possess. Letting his gaze wander – first over the street underneath them and then to her – he asked, “And now?”

“And now, we’ll sit and I don’t know, talk?”

He shook his head at her, a smirk on his face. “What I’m interested in doing with you does normally not include a whole lot of talking.”

Chloe smacked him with her free hand. “Oh, keep it in your pants, Satan.”

He pouted with an exaggerated sigh and took a sip of his tea, “If you insist. But you did quite enjoy when I didn’t.“

Heat rose furiously in her cheeks at the wink he tossed her.

“Of course, I did”, she groaned, shaking her head. Thinking about sitting down, she held up her hand, “Let me just get a few pillows and a blanket.”

“Oh, thank heavens. I’ll freeze off my bloody arse otherwise.”

“Language, Mr. Morningstar!”, she admonished with a chuckle as she slid inside.

He glanced at her, with sly grin on his lips, “Bugger off.”

* * *

He could hear her giggle even as she had disappeared from his line of sight. He shook his head with a fond smile playing with the corners of his mouth as he exhaled a long breath. How could he ever deserve her? He had shown her the ugly and unhinged and she had taken his hands into hers and told him that she was glad that she got to see it. This woman was something else entirely.

“You would’ve liked her, darling”, he whispered - a disconcerting, bittersweet mix of joy and grief rising from deep within his chest. Breathing in the night’s air, he directed his gaze upwards to the sky he couldn’t see. Only the clouds were illuminated by the city below them. The city with the loud and flashing lights that he still couldn’t get quite used to. What would he give to see the stars? Rationally he knew that Eve couldn’t hear him, but oh, how he wished she did. If people’d really become stars, she would be the brightest, most radiant all across the universe.

_“Please help me keep her safe”_ , he silently prayed, “ _I couldn’t do you the same courtesy. Let me at least make this right.”_

The hidden sky remained silent, as it always did and he swallowed down his tears. His fingers longed for dark curls lying silkily between them and his heart for warm brown eyes and lips grinning up at him. 

“I wished you were here”, he mumbled towards the deaf clouds. He’d never believed he’d feel anything even resembling love towards any other person ever again.

And then there was Chloe. This wonderful, witty, clever, funny and kind woman that’d set his parched heart on fire. She’d intrigued him, challenged him and had finally captured him. If there could be any woman after Eve, it would be her. Only her. A fond sigh escaped him. Her smile alone could light up a whole toss up of a day. A sudden wave of longing washed over him and he had to physically keep himself from going after her, which he only succeeded with as he heard a suspicious thump followed by a quiet “ _motherflunker_ ”. He prayed to someone for strength to not kiss her senseless on this bloody chilly fire escape.

* * *

Sneaking back into her room after nearly faceplanting because of Trixie’s ninja-chemist-ballerina, she let out a little pant as she tossed a pillow to Lucifer’s face that he thankfully caught with ease, otherwise she would’ve had to ask a passenger to throw them the thing up again.

He raised an amused eyebrow at her. “You know quite some colourful swear words, my dear Detective.”

Huh? Oh. He must have heard her.

“Well”, she shrugged, letting her goods fall onto the floor, “you’ve got to get creative, when you’ve got a kid picking up every little thing you say. Please. APB. Bitch.”

He stared at her, before he let out a disbelieving chortle. Before she’d any time to even realize what was happening or where the hell the tea went, he’d crowded her space and crashed his lips against hers. Unspoken words that she couldn’t yet decipher lay in his kiss, the way his palms cupped her cheeks and made her feel delicate, because of their sheer size.

“Okay?”, she brought over her lips in confusion as he pulled away. Her hands had found their way to where his vest met his chest. He leaned his forehead against hers, breathing her in.

“You’re amazing”, he told her with a breathy laugh that made her heart jump.

“Thank you”, she smiled, “You’re not too bad yourself.”

She felt the vibrations of his hum under her fingertips as he glanced down at the pillows.

“I know you wanted to do the whole New York fire escape romance, but”, he trailed of.

“Bed?”, she chuckled and let out a giggle at the glee that took over his features. Without hesitating any longer, his hands were at her hips and he had lifted her onto the window’s bench. A wave of excitement rushed through her and man, she really didn’t know why him lifting her was such a turn on. He slipped inside next to her and with a timid smile she looked up to him.

“Do that again?”, Chloe bit her lip, enjoying the way his features went slack at it, before a smirk bloomed on them.

***

“You like that, don’t you?”, he murmured into the shell of her ear as he hoisted her up, for her to cross her legs behind his back. She made a noncommittal sound at the heat of arousal that tugged between her legs. Pressing featherlight kisses to his neck, she grinned against his skin at the goosebumps that raised the hairs at his nape.

“You like that, don’t you?”, she teased. His grip on her butt tightened as he pulled her closer to him. A quiet moan escaped her as she felt his erection against her core.

“Oh, I do. Very much”, she could tell he smirked, even without seeing his face. Walking backwards he carried her, letting himself fall onto the mattress. The little squeak that escaped her caused him to laugh. She forced herself to sit up, instead of snuggling closer into the crook of his neck. Her eyes flickered from his stupidly handsome face that she wanted to kiss every inch of if possible to the wall that connected her room to Trixie’s.

“But we’ll have to be quiet”, she whispered.

“I can be quiet, Detective. The question is, can you?”

She rolled her eyes at his remark. “Of course, I can.”

His smirk morphed into a moan as she ground her hips against his. He felt so good already. For a moment he stared up at her, before he sat up with a start and began unbuttoning his vest and shirt. Her blouse soon followed, as did both of their pants. Only clad in underwear and trying to feel every little bit of skin of the other, they moved together. She yearned for him to be inside her already as he rubbed against her, long and hard. She swallowed down the whine that nearly escaped her. Her fingers travelled from where it had was buried in his hair down across the firm planes of his chest and abs towards his cock. Carefully she stroked him and grinned as he bucked into her hand. His eyes zeroed out on her as she repeated the movement, slower this time, and finally fluttered close. His mouth open in a silent groan, he couldn’t have been more stunning. She wanted him to fall apart at her touch, wanted to see him relinquish control underneath her fingertips.

“Hey”, his lids opened sluggishly for his gaze to focus on her, “are you good? Like STD wise?”

Frowning he nodded. “Always used protection.”

The confusion on his face melted into realization as she grinned and begun to press kisses onto his length.

“Chloe, love, you don’t have to”, his eyes wide and dark as she winked at him.

“I know. I want to.”

A groan made it across his lips as he buried his face inside the pillow, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “ _you’re going to be the end of me, woman_.” She got his boxers off of him and sighed contently.

She could tell he was about to slip back into his usual bravado, but before he got anywhere close to forming intelligible words, she had taken him into her hand and licked over his tip, before slowly taking him into her mouth. He fell back onto the mattress, sucking in a sharp breath. She smirked internally, as her tongue played along his tip, rolling and circling, little kitten licks, before she sucked him further in. His muscles strained under her palm as he tried to keep himself from bucking into her mouth. Continuing her ministrations – on her knees between the devil’s spread legs, she mused – she listened to the little breathy sounds that escaped him, the further she took him in. His hand had found its way into her hair, gripping it softly, just resting there. She wouldn’t have minded him guiding her, but his touch alone intensified rush of lust between her own legs. She was ridiculously wet already, yearning for friction she couldn’t have yet. His cock filled her mouth, heavy and hard and warm and she moaned around him, before she brushed her fingertips over his balls and took him in as deep as she could.

“Fuck”, she heard him curse, not above a whisper, “Stop. Chloe, _stop_.”

His hand slowly tugged her away and with a _plop_ she released him.

“Is everything okay?”, concern knitted her brows as she studied him. She’d thought he enjoyed it.

He huffed out a laugh, “Yes, very. But if you continue”, he drew in a breath as if to calm him, “if you continue that I’m going to come. And I can’t have that. Not yet.”

Realization dawned on her, her mouth forming a little “oh”.

“Yes”, he sighed, a dazed grin on his face as he pulled her towards himself, “Come here.”

Meeting her lips in a slow kiss, he wound his arms around her.

“Can’t have my reputation ruined by being a two-pump chump.”

She snickered. “No, of course not.”

Huffing out a happy breath his muscles bulged as he pressed her tightly against his body, while his fingers brushed along her sides, wandering downwards. Finding their goal, they slipped underneath the lace of her panties to carefully slip between her folds. A breathy moan escaped her moan.

“So wet for me”, he groaned, expertly sliding his fingers along her clit, circling her entrance, before entering her.

“ _Lucifer”,_ she whimpered, hands tightening on his shoulders.

“Shh”, he chuckled, “What was that about keeping quiet?”

She groaned, a fine line between annoyance and need. His cock was pressed against her stomach, while he thrusted his fingers shallowly into her. Her lips pressed open mouthed kisses against his skin, unable to focus on anything else than the feeling of his fingers stretching her and how his erection would fill her up even more. A soft whine rose in her throat and she let her nails trail along his sides, enjoying the way he shuddered underneath her. Her hips jerked against his hand and she could swear he was smirking between his stuttering breaths. It could as well have been in flames that licked along her inner thighs to her womb.

“Please”, she whispered against his skin, “please. I need you.”

“You need me?”, he managed to pant out, unable to stop his teasing for a minute. Shaking her head with a snort she pulled him down to meet her lips, rolling against his cock.

“Yes”, she hadn’t anticipated her voice to drop down to such a low, throaty level, but the effect it had on him was more than satisfactory. The grip on her waist tightened as he slipped his fingers out of her, flipping them over. Towering over her he attacked her neck with kisses, tugging down her panties, freeing her boobs from their confinement, caressing them with his lips, tongue lapping at her nipples. His touch set her nerve endings aflame. she bucked against him, her insides coiling tight with need.

Quickly her hand searched for a condom to tear open. He took it from her, pulling it over, positioning at her entrance. His arms framed her as he leaned over her, his eyes searching for hers.

“Chloe”, he whispered nearly reverently and it sent shivers along her spine and made the butterflies flutter excitedly.

“Lucifer”, she murmured, a smile gracing her lips as she pressed a kiss to his, that he melted into. He sunk down into her and swallowed the moans that tore loose from her throat as her hips moved to meet his.

His forehead dropped against hers as he thrusted into her. Shivers ran along her skin, like waves running along the shore as he hit the spot inside her that made her whine and cling onto him to keep her head above the surface. She desperately tried to suck in air, to meet him in his movements, chasing her high.

“Let go, love”, he whispered, breath warm against her skin, his body heavy and safe over her. A thin sheen of sweat covering his body, her body, it was hard to tell where he started and she ended. “I got you, Chloe. Come for me.”

His breathy words tickled the shell of her ear and pushed her over the edge, universe just within her reach. Because, god, that accent. Shuddering into his embrace she buried herself in the crook of his neck.

A soft sigh escaped her and his chuckle shook her with him forcing a groan out of her.

“Good?”

She just managed to nod weakly against him, tension had finally bled out of her muscles in a rush. Her hands disentangled themselves from behind his head as she stretched to kiss him. As his tongue sneaked past his lips again, a needy sound sounded in the back of her throat as she moved against him as he thrust into her, slow and powerful movements that had her ankles crossing behind him to somehow get him even closer.

“Lucifer”, she whimpered breathily against him as he sped up his movements, her hands travelling along the broad planes of his back, her nails gently running along the packs of muscles.

A litany of stifled moans left her lips as he sucked bruises on her neck, stretching her wide and hitting that very spot that had starts dancing across her vision. Her hands flattened against his skin, fingers brushing against rugged skin, taut against her touch. She froze in his arms. Shit.

“I’m sorry”, she whispered, eyes wide. He shook his head against the crook of her neck, pulling away.

“Don’t stop”, his voice rung roughly in her ears, “ _please_.”

Overwhelmed by the wave of trust that he radiated she let the pads of her hands brush over the connective tissue, warm under her fingers, before the latter started dancing along the lines ridged into his back.

Her name was reduced to a reverent gasp as he thrust into her, slowly, then faster, harder before he eventually spilled into her with a silent curse. His body shivered a last time, his lips seeking out hers, warm and lazy. A content sigh escaped his lips.

***

She chuckled gently as her hands wandered up to play with the hair in his nape.

“You good there?”

“Hm”, he made happily, sinking down onto her, his weight comfortably curling up on top of her, while his head rested on the pillow next to hers. He seemed properly blissed out and it made her smile. She lay and listened to their intermingling breathing

“Lucifer”, she said then, quietly, tentatively.

“Yes, love?”, he mumbled.

“Was – me touching your scars okay? I know they’re a sensitive topic for you.”

She felt stupid for asking when he had very explicitly encouraged her to continue.

His words were muffled by the softness of her pillow.

“I trust you, Chloe.”

She felt blush creeping along her neck to her cheeks at his admission, so earnest and full of conviction. She smiled then and he reciprocated it with an even more radiant one. When he eventually slipped out of her and sat at the edge of the bed to clean himself up, she followed his body upwards. Carefully she scooted closer to his back, fingers skirting along his spine. Goosebumps follow her touch. Even in the low light of her room she can see the fringes of where he had cut raggedly. Her chest constricts with anger and heartbreak on his behalf. How could he be so full of rage at his parent that he had cut his back open just to escape.

_He branded me, alright? Two angel wings slapped onto my back as if I were bloody cattle…_

To feel so owned, so violated. She suppressed the urge to whimper. With the utmost care she could muster she leaned closer, gently pressing a kiss to first the left scar, then the right one, fingers lovingly caressing their rims. She would keep him safe, she swore herself.

A shudder chased along his body as he slowly turned, eyes shining with something bigger than he could put into words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut summary: 
> 
> A blowjob and the question of possible STDs is covered - Chloe touches Lucifer's scars, which eventually leads him to climax.


	19. A-maze-ing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> meeting Maze on a way out and telling Trixie the news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning peeps! 
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments and support! I love to hear your thoughts on the progression of the relationship and remarks if something irks you about their behaviour. They are human after all, jagged and harsh characters that still have to grow and evolve - but sometimes I am so wrapped up in the progression of the plot that I oversee some things that could morph into something very problematic over the course of the story!
> 
> Special thanks also to Prismae, who has agreed to point out some mistakes to me that I can correct! Peeps, if you see some grammar/spelling mistakes, just tell me!^^ I am currently the only beta of my story XD and after reading a scene for the tenth time I will inevitably miss something! 
> 
> The involvement and investment that you guys bring to the story is eventually what makes it whole and what makes it the best it can be!
> 
> I will be - unfortunately - cutting down the number of updates, because I am so caught up in staring at the very same word document the whole day, that it drains the ease and creativity that comes with writing and makes my work taste bland and uninspiring.  
> I will still be uploading 2 x a week at least I think, but I have to see how it goes with work and writing and all!
> 
> Lots of love peeps!

She seemed to flow through her days, her smile never waning. Not when they finally got a hold of Blake Stewards, not when he lawyered up and wouldn’t talk, not when Dan called and announced he would come visit in the two weeks coming up before Trixie’s birthday. She was just headed towards the bakery she planned to stay with Trixie – they had decided to get chocolate cake, when her shoulder bumped into someone.

“Oh! So sorry!”, she hurried to say, turning only to meet an amused smirk, eyes twinkling with wit. The leather clad woman grinned at her with obvious amusement.

“You’re a fierce one, Decker”, it was Maze, who nodded with something akin to respect in her gaze, roving over her happy and breathless smile, “Lucifer finally got his head out of his ass?”

Chloe laughed at that as she ignored the lack of a greeting, before shrugging, “Nearly didn’t. It was… is complicated.”

“It always is with him”, the woman rolled her eyes, “at least if he allows his issues to win.”

“So you know about-?”

“Sure do”, she sent her half a smile.

“Mommy, who’s that?”, Trixie was tugging at her hand, wide eyes looking up at Maze. Oh, right. 

“That’s a friend of Lucifer and me”, she smiled down at her, not missing the way the other woman’s brows rose in surprise, before giving way into something gentler she hadn’t seen very often on her features.

As if it was her cue she crouched down to her daughter’s height and grinned, “I’m Mazikeen. But you can call me Maze.”

“Hi, I am Beatrice, but you can call me Trixie”, her daughter replied, beaming, holding her hand out for Maze to fist bump her.

“I like her already”, she chuckled.

“That I can see”, Chloe shook her head with fond exasperation, because she and her little Monkey did attract quite the unique kind of persons. For a moment she considered, Trixie did want some cake and after all, she had wanted to talk to Maze for a while anyway.

“You wanna grab a coffee with us?”

Maze blinked at her, surprised and for a second she regretted asking. But when the woman gave her a half-hearted shrug and a curt and nonchalant, “Sure”, the way the corners of her mouth curled ever so slightly, telling her she had made the right decision.

“Alright, Monkey?”

Her daughter beamed like a firefly in the dark as she grabbed Maze’s hand, tugging her along.

“We’re getting chocolate cake!”, she explained excitedly, “with a lot of ga-ganush?”

Her eyes blinked up questioningly.

“Ganache, baby”, Chloe chuckled.

“Yes, that.”

“Sounds awesome.”

“Sounds _amazing_ ”, Chloe winked, unable to stop herself. Lucifer was rubbing off on her.

The glare Maze sent her had her ducking her head.

“I see why you two like each other”, she nodded to herself - lips a grim line - wanting to cross her arms in front of her chest but was unable to because Trix held onto one of her limbs, “Always with those puns. I can’t hear them anymore.”

“Sorry”, she grinned, even though she was not.

“Mooom”, Trixie butted in, “I can see the bakery!”

It was like having her own personal dog tugging at the leash that was her hand. Her curls bounced with enthusiasm, the little pink backpack on her back did the same.

“Yeah, me too.”

Turned out that you got to a place faster than google maps anticipated if an eight-year-old pulled you with the sheer force of excitement.

Inside people stood in line, waiting for their turn to get their hands onto the soft bread and delicious treats they offered.

“Why don’t you two go and look for a table, hm? I’ll get us our drinks.”

“And chocolate cake.”

“And chocolate cake”, she added. Maze looked at her like she was trying to figure her out.

“What do you want? Coffee dark like your soul?”

A smirk danced across her lips, graceful and dangerous in a way only Maze could smile.

“I don’t have a soul, but an Americano is fine. Thanks, Decker.”

Chloe could only shake her head as she readied herself for a wait. Those two. Really. Trixie skipped off, dragging the woman behind her to look for a table. Did she really trust her with her daughter? A small smile played with her features. She did. She truly did.

Good thing that her nerves were trained by long stakeouts because she would otherwise have gone nuts when the man in front of her needed five minutes to decide which kind of bread he wanted. The young woman behind the counter wasn’t so lucky, her left eye twitching slightly. As she finally was allowed to place her order she threw her a empathic glance as if to say, _I feel you_.

“A cappuccino, an americano, a small apple juice and a slice of Chocolate heaven.”

_Caelum_. _The Latin word for sky or heaven._

A shudder chased along her spine, while she tried her best to shove the unwelcome information in the back of her mind. Denial at its finest.

“Coming right up”, at her nod the little ridiculous hat on the woman’s blonde bob wobbled.

“Thank you so much.”

Propping her hip up against the counter she basked in the warmth of the bakery, the scent of freshly baked goods as it lingered thick and dewy and sugary in the air, mingling with the bitter notes of ground coffee. In LA she would be running around in a shirt already, but right now she was still wearing a coat over her jumper. As she finally took her bounty and made her way to the table Trix had chosen for them, her munchkin and the bar tender were already absorbed in a conversation about some Disney film? At least it wasn’t the puppy discussion again. She would truly never hear the end of it.

“There you go”, she put the tableau in front of them, Trixie lunging for the chocolate cake, before Maze could even react.

“Thanks, Decker.”

“It’s fine”, she said as she took her own cup.

As they sat and joked around, talked about the last few weeks, the burning questions never died on Chloe’s tongue even though she had to bite the inside of her cheeks to stop them from spilling out of her.

“Spit them out”, Maze chuckled, clearly amused, “You look like you’re going to burst.”

The blush that fought its way up her face was furious.

“So”, her fingers toyed with the rim of her cup, “you know about the whole… heaven thing.”

It was less a question than it was a statement that the haunted flicker in the woman’s eyes confirmed.

“I do.”

Everything else she wanted to say didn’t pass her lips as the thundering waves tore down the barrier behind which the information rested that she had soaked up like a sponge. Lucifer’s family was a crime syndicate in the UK, involved in drug dealing and other shady deals. Violence, abuse. He had been branded for those very same brands to turn into the scars she had kissed a few days ago.

_Maze tended the wounds. She has quite some experience._

She had known all along, had taken care of him when he couldn’t.

“So, since when do you …”, she trailed off. Maze took a sip, dark lipstick leaving a perfect rim on the white porcelain.

“When he started working with me, he was a mess. And we drank a lot after shifts and I don’t even remember when, but he told me his story, all the bullshit that had been going on with his family and in return I told him about mine. An eye for an eye and all that shit.”

Chloe sent her a glare as Trixie perked up. All she got as a twisted form of an apology was an eye roll.

“He told me about his plan to”, a careful glance towards her Monkey, “ _remove_ his marks. I agreed to help him afterwards if he promised me to see a therapist afterwards. He was a mess. We shook on it. We’ve been friends ever since.”

That was certainly a thrilling way to start a friendship.

“But whatever I know that you don’t, don’t ask me. I won’t tell. I’m no snitch”, with that and a decisive nod she downed the rest of her coffee.

“Okay, fair enough”, Chloe agreed, her neck tingling with unease at all the things Lucifer and her had yet to talk about.

“So, Decker, kid, it’s been fun, but I do have work that I have to get back to“, her face was apologetic, well as apologetic as it could get.

Trixie stared up at her, eyes wide and glassy.

“You need to go?”

“Yes, I’m sorry kid”, she held her fist out for Trixie to bump it, “but we will see each other again.”

“Okay”, she brightened at that, “Bye Maze! You’re really cool!”

The woman’s dark eyes twinkled with amusement, “Hell, yeah I am.”

“Bye, Maze”, Chloe chuckled as she rose form her seat, “I’ll see you around.”

“See you, Decker!”

With that and a confident stride she was out of the door. She shook her head fondly. The friends she made.

“Mom, can we get a puppy?”

\---

The smile on her face never waned, only morphed into a stupid grin that would never leave her lips, but only widened when Lucifer would wait for her outside of the precinct after her shift. Sometimes, when her little Monkey was staying at a friend’s place, she accompanied him while he played the piano in Y’s Gawen, while she sat nearby, reading through case files or even a book every once in a while. He’d pass her table ever so often, making sure to keep her supplied with drinks and kisses. Later she’d be bent over the edge of his bed while he’d thrust into her, full, of power and passion – swirling flames underneath their skins.

Other times he’d be over at her place, eating spaghetti and chocolate cake on the couch with them, while they played Monopoly. (“Urchin, you’re cheating!” – “I am not! You just spend your money on stupid stuff.”) He’d give Trixie a piggyback ride to her bedroom to let her drop unceremoniously onto it and would watch them, with his shoulder propped against the doorway, while she read her daughter a bedtime story. Later they’d make love, stifled and swallowed moans and deep thrusts, filled with so much devotion that it took her breath away and carried her to the stars.

She had looked up Caelum at nights, had put down everything in one of her notebooks that he had told her, had tried to gather more information that could be crucial. How far the syndicate’s roots reached sent shudders along her spine. Sitting down with Lucifer himself had helped immensely as he filled in gaps, still reluctant as if that itself could protect her from them. But it was the knowledge in itself that helped her assess and evaluate a potential threat, that helped her relax as she knew enough, _understood_ enough.

The only difficulty that seemed to come her way now was how to tell Trixie the news. Lucifer spent nearly every second night at her place and even though he disappeared in the morning before her Monkey woke – although begrudgingly and with a grumbling kiss – it was harder to hide the fact that they were indeed a couple. He was the first person she dated after her divorce and she didn’t know how her daughter would react to it. Even though “the devious offspring” liked Lucifer and chose him more often than not as her personal mattress - much to his dismay - Chloe didn’t want her to think that she was trying to replace Dan. She knew that she had to tell her about them eventually, but was it too soon for her to have another relationship?

Turning the bowl she was washing for the fifth time, Trixie stared at her with a skeptical expression, scrunching her little nose, scrutinizing her.

“Why are you nervous, Mommy?”

“I’m not nervous”, she denied quickly and handed her the dish to dry it off.

“Uhu”, she made, “Don’t lie, Mom. Lucifer says lying is bad.”

Of course he did. Letting out a long exhale, she turned towards her.

“Yes, alright. You’re right I am nervous, Monkey”, she nodded, focusing on her, “And this is about Lucifer actually.” Her heart beat faster in her chest.

Trixie put the bowl in front of her, a look of pure concentration on her face, “You mean that he is your boyfriend?”

Chloe gaped at her, stuttering, “How – who told you?”

“Last week I caught him sneaking out of your room.”

She blinked. How had Lucifer not mentioned it? “Oh”, she made, biting her lip, “So, what do you think, Monkey?”

“I think he’s awesome! Can he stay next time and make breakfast?” The toothy grin that she flashed her made her heart sing with joy.

“I’m sure he will”, she smiled at her, “You can ask him next time, when he’s here. But Monkey!”, she added as the little girl next to her started cheer, “Maybe don’t tell Daddy yet, okay? I wanna tell him myself.”

For a split second her little face fell, before her grin was back in place. “Okay!” With that she was off to her room -probably to tell Miss Alien the news.

She had seen him _sneak_ out of her room. How had he managed that? Wasn’t he supposed to be good at that if she took his past into account? Not that she had thought about that a whole lot, actually. She was still pushing it back into the farthest corner of her mind. The times she lay nestled in his arms, cuddled up against each other, nothing had ever felt more right, she’d never felt safer than then. But the days she came back from work, from investigating homicides that ripped families apart, she enveloped her munchkin in a tight hug, sickness threatened to overpower her. What if she brought her Monkey onto Caelum’s radar? What if she got hurt because of her relationship with Lucifer? What if Dan found out and pushed for Trixie’s custody in court? She couldn’t lose her. She couldn’t Trixie was her everything, her world and she would put her above all. But what she felt for Lucifer was unique.

The way they’d clicked, the way she’d felt safe and calm around him must be what soulmates felt like. And if those did exist, she liked to think that the soul had more than one partner. That the soul found its equals between family members and friends, strangers on the bus and lastly lovers. That it found its partners scattered throughout its life, found its safe haven in acceptance and love and trust. And she felt like she had found a piece in him.

He made her laugh and cherished her, with touches, kisses and words alike. He made sure to sooth her anxieties and hold her through her doubts. He made her laugh harder than she had in years and damn it – he looked so _happy_ about it. She had meant what she said. He deserved good things in life. He deserved this after all the pain and hate and anger. Maybe she was selfish and maybe she shouldn’t be. Maybe she should put Trixie above the eventuality of danger, but she hadn’t in herself to hurt him in the process. She couldn’t. Maybe her attachment had already become more than mere fondness. She didn’t dare to think about it any further, but the inkling in the back of her mind whispered of love.

It didn’t fade, especially not when he showed up at her doorstep, a brilliant grin and overnight bag in hand and bowed down to peck her lips.

“Hey love”, he mumbled against her.

“Hey you”, she chuckled and let him in.

“ _Lucifer!_ ”, Trixie attached herself to his person, her grin as wide as his.

“Urchin”, he mused and moved with her clutching his hips, “Do you mind?”

“You can make breakfast tomorrow! You don’t have to leave in the morning!”

“I don’t?”, he raised his eyebrows in Chloe’s direction, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards, “has your mother finally told you the news?”

“Yep”, her Monkey said, popping the “p” at the end.

“Thank heavens”, he sighed relieved, eyes twinkling with mischief, “It was getting quite tiring to be frank.”

Chloe crossed her arms in front of her chest, scrutinizing them, with a mock serious expression. “I see what’s happening here”, she points at them, “You’re double teaming against me.”

Glee lit up Lucifer’s face, “I _do_ love some double teami-“

“No!”, she cut in, eyes widening in panic at the same moment as Trixie asked, “What’s double teaming?”

“Ask your father.”

“Ask Daddy.”

They said in unison, Lucifer sporting a slightly horrified expression at the thought of explaining this to her eight-year old daughter. The whole thing was bordering to ridiculous and she tried to divert the tension, “Who wants dinner?”

She was putting away what was left from dinner – it wasn’t a lot – when Lucifer was tugged through the living room from picture to picture by her Monkey, having to look at fifteen different pictures of them at the beach or at Disneyland. She shook her head with a fond smile. Even though he’d deny it in an instant, he was tightly wrapped around Trixie’s little finger. Making her way over to them she nestled herself under his arm.

“What are you two looking at?”, she wanted to know, breathing in his scent. It always made her feel like home.

“Ah, the spawn has showed me photograph number 75 from her and her father at Disneyland.”

“That’s Santa Monica beach”, Trixie corrected him sternly.

“So sorry, urchin”, he rolled his eyes and she stretched out her tongue.

“Trix!”, Chloe admonished, but Lucifer simply snorted.

“Those were all the fun ones”, her daughter pouted, “there’s just those of me as a baby.”

“Tragic”, he deadpanned, shaking his head with a smirk as she darted off. Chloe’s hand played with the buttons of his shirt, loving the feel of his muscles underneath her fingers. She admired how they lay underneath her palms when she straddled him, leaning onto them for support. She shook the image off and looked up to him. His attention lay on a picture resting on the bookshelf.

“Is that…?”, he trailed off, carefully taking the frame into his hand.

“That’s me a few days after I gave birth to Trix”, she said quietly, a smile dancing across her lips. It had been the most exhausted she’d ever been, but also the most fulfilled and at peace.

His thumb brushed over the smooth surface - slowly - over where her arms wound around her daughter, her baby pressed against her chest. She watched him as he swallowed lightly, an unbearably soft expression in his eyes tainted by something wistful. He put it back with the same care, hugging her tighter to himself. Had he ever wanted kids with Eve? Did he want kids now? Or did he secretly want to build a family, knowing his family would hunt them down and use them against him? The question lingered on her tongue, bitter and forbidden like the scent of tobacco, but she swallowed it down.

Too soon, she decided. They had time for this conversation another day, even though curiosity ate away her resolve the longer she stood there, hand resting above his heart, pressed into his side, kept safe by his arms. Where they were safe from the lurking shadows and figments of his past. Barely there, hardly possible they waited, muscles coiled tight in tension for the moment to attack. But as long as he held her, she knew she would be safe. They’d get through this together, through whatever it was. She’d have his back, guard his scars with drawn gun and vigilant eyes. They were partners after all.

He pressed a kiss to her temple, lingering and breathing her in and she leaned into it, contently.

“Are you okay?”, she asked, her question barely above a whisper. His forehead bumped against the top of her head as he spoke into her hair.

“With you by my side I’ll always be.”


	20. Detective Douche

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan and Ella come over for a visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning peeps!
> 
> This chapter holds mentions of systemic racism and police violence - nothing graphic, but Chloe is a cop in the US after all. Please read with care.
> 
> This is a conversation that has to be discussed further than the two of them do in this chapter and there are so many things you can do to support Black people, Brown people, Indigenous people and People of Colour! Sign petitions, donate, dismantle your own racist behaviours and believes (and pay Black people if you have the means to purchase a book or a course from them).
> 
> Read books from BBIPoC authors and support their businesses!  
> Black lives matter, Brown lives matter, Indigenous lives matter, People of Colour's lives matter.
> 
> Sending all my love your way peeps!

“Trix!”, she rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time, annoyance and dread swirling in anxiously cracking flames beneath her sternum, “Get your stuff! Your dad will be here soon!”

“But Mom!”, she protested loudly, “I can’t find Miss Alien! I can’t sleep without her! I need her with me!”

Praying to high heavens for patience, she put her cup into the sink, quietly cursing herself for not doing the dishes sooner. Dan would comment on them, she knew. If having Trixie on her own was too much for her. If she was sure she didn’t need help. If he should take her for a while. An irritated frown creased her forehead, angry tension coiling tight and nudging at her temples. Lucifer never minded the dirty dishes. He would just chuckle, pour her a glass of wine, roll up his sleeves and do them for her, while chatting about her day. She wasn’t sure why he did it. Did he do it back with Eve and it was more of a routine than anything? Was she reading too much into this? Was it to prove to her that he could provide for her like in some kind of cavemen complex he was caught in? Or did he think he wasn’t welcome if he didn’t give something in return?

“Mom!”

She groaned quietly, “I’m on my way!”

After crawling on her knees (oh, how she was blushing at the last time she had been on her knees like that) to look underneath the couch and every possible piece of furniture for the plushie and not finding anything but the fact that she had to vacuum as soon as her visitors were gone, she collapsed exhaustedly on the barstool, her fingers dancing over the scratched surface. The lady they’d gotten them from had had cats. Better on the leather than on some poor victim. She suppressed a shudder. She rested her head in her hands. As much as she loved to see Ella again – she had missed the infamous Lopez’ hugs - she just wanted this to be over, to grab her purse and some casefile to make her way over to Y’s Gawen. Listening to Lucifer play and chatting with Maze at the bar sounded just like what she needed. She knew once they’d be there, everything would be just fine and she’d laugh with Ella, open a bottle of wine and catch up on the gossip she had missed. But her inner Chloe longed to be taken care of – in so many ways.

A ring at the door and Trixie’s excited yell caused her to flinch out of her daydreams and her eardrums to shake in violent tremors. Holy shit. She had barely followed her daughter into the hallway, when the door was torn open and a ball of overexcited energy bowled into her.

“DECKER!”

Her arms wound around the small woman, clutching her close to her. She had forgotten how badly she had missed her best friend.

“Hi to you too, Ella”, she said, unable to stop the grin that was spreading across her features.

“I missed you sooo much!”

“I missed you too.”

Trixie’s loud “Daddy!” tore her focus loose from the familiar scent of Ella’s perfume. Even though it had been a while, him being here, looking as he always did – sharply cut hair mussed at the top, heavy leather jacket hugging his defined muscles (bulky if she thought of it) – took the air out of her lungs. Not in the swooning and fun way as it did when Lucifer stared at her for a little _too_ long, with a little _too_ much unconcealed hunger for the general public. But the painful way a punch to your solar plexus did.

“Hey munchkin”, she heard him say, “I missed you so much”, he whispered into her – his – their daughter’s hair as he held onto her. Guilt swooped low in her stomach and anger lit up as if a match flicked into a canister of gasoline. It was not her fault! How dare he act as if it was?

Black strands tickled in her nose as the forensic scientist grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away.

“Chloe you won’t _believe_ how much you’ve missed! Like – girl – The last case was bananas! I know, I say that about so many cases, but dude. And Monroe has been made chief of police! Like whaaat? And Bob, you know, last Saturday he somehow got to my bath salt”

_Who was Bob? Wasn’t her chicken’s name Margret?_

“you know those from Bath & Bodyworks and you know what the idiot did? He ate it! So I rushed him to the vet and – “

“Ella, let the woman breathe”, Dan laughed and pushed himself further into the apartment. Even though Chloe was glad that her friend didn’t follow the fate of one of her victims at work by the lack of oxygen, she hated the grin on his face. She didn’t even know why. But she did.

“Hey Chlo…e”, he added quickly at the way her eyes narrowed.

“Hey Dan.”

She could as well give up her pent-up anger. It wasn’t like it would get her anywhere. Releasing a breath, exhaustion crawled along her limbs. She might as well let it go.

“Do you guys want some coffee? I can make some.”

At the sounds of approval she led them inside the tiny apartment listening to Trixie’s rambles at how big everything in New York was and how Auntie Ella and her had to make a Disney movie night. She saw Dan’s gaze catch at the sink – she had known it – but he didn’t bring it up. _Good for him_. For a moment she frowned, wondering, before she turned back to the cupboard, looking for the ground coffee.

“So, that’s where you live, huh?”

She took mercy at the awkwardness that she sensed in his words. How had they ever been married? How had they ever sat at the kitchen floor at 2 am, laughing their asses off while eating ice cream she didn’t know anymore. It seemed lifetimes ago, as if she’d been someone else. But in a way she had been.

“Jup”, she made, “It’s small, but

_I like it. It’s…_

homey.”

“Mhm”, he nodded before silence gaped open in a yawn between them.

“So, how was your trip?”, she made herself ask while she filled the empty container with water.

Chatting about LA and work brought her back into a time where things had been easy – not happy or exciting – but easy. Talking and laughing about stories of coworkers with the man, who’d been her husband, and her best friend in her kitchen while drinking coffee felt familiar. Safe in the same way anger or bad habits did. Not safe in the way Lucifer’s cologne or his arms around her waist felt when he held her closely to him at night. Time flew by in a rush, information delivered in rapid gun fire to her brain - Monroe as chief of police, the arsenic murders, Bob was a turtle that didn’t get along with Margret, a new Chinese restaurant opened at the corner of the precinct and the Newbie – Officer Gillan or how Ella gushed _Mark_ – was apparently the cutest being known to mankind. Or so her favorite forensic scientist said. Her laugh melted into something honest and teasing and she delivered pun after tease that had Ella cackling into her cup.

“That new side suits you”, Dan commented, something benevolent that had her heart raging in his tone.

When it was finally time for Trixie and her father to leave, her chest felt heavy to let her go with him. What if she decided she would like to stay with Dan instead of her? She smothered the thought as quickly as it arose. That was a pile of crap and she knew it. Finally letting go of her daughter after almost squishing her to death, she straightened herself.

“Take care you guys, alright?”

“We will, don’t worry Chlo”, Dan reassured her with the cocky grin that she had adored so much on him when they were married.

“Alright”, she nodded and gave them a little wave.

“You’ve got everything, Monkey?”, she asked and met the enthusiastic nod of her kid.

“Yes! Well”, her face fell, “aside from Miss Alien. Can you –“

“I’ll tell Daddy when I find it so he can come get it, okay?”

“Thank you, Mommy! But can you ask Lucifer whether he has seen her?”

Her heart spontaneously stopped beating, while Ella’s eyes grew wide. Awkward silence hung above them, before Dan cleared his throat.

“Who – who is Lucifer?”

“Uhm, nobody. Just a frie-“

She didn’t know why she felt the need to deny it. Maybe because it was Dan, maybe because it was Dan _and_ she’d wanted to tell him in private and not completely out of the blue.

“That’s Mommy’s boyfriend”, Trixie beamed up at her Dad.

Shit. A flash of hurt hurried across Dan’s face – they were divorced for heaven’s sake.

“I see”, he murmured his light eyes growing dark, “let’s go munchkin.”

“Bye”, Chloe awkwardly pressed out as they disappeared with a wave and disappointed look out of the door.

It had taken Ella five seconds to free herself out of her trance, grab her by the arm and push her onto the couch.

“Talk”, she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Like she was a child to be chided for sneaking chocolate cake into her room, “I thought it was nothing more than a fling?”

“I never said that!”, she protested.

“Duh”, her friend made, “but you didn’t tell me _hey, that superhot devil sex god I told you about? That’s my boyfriend now_! _I’m in a relationship with Satan!_ ”

“Wasn’t it obvious?”, dumbfounded she stared up at her, gaping, ignoring the devilish comments, “I told you he did come over for dinner and stayed the night.”

“Yeah”, an eyeroll, “But it was mostly about the canoodeling and the steamin hot sex!”

She wanted to protest, blood in her cheeks burning.

“Never mind, chica, tell me eeeeevrything. I need to know.”

Her head resting in her hands she sighed. That could take a while.

“Everything started with me coming over to his bar to talk to him about you know, his freak out and everything”, she would not tell Ella about the scars, she had decided. That was his secret to divulge and hers to protect, “And we drunk a bit and well, we ended up …”

What they ended up doing Ella had already heard. But she also told her about how he had freaked out – purposefully skirting around _what_ he had freaked out over – and how they’d talked it through, about how he humored Trixie, indulged her even though he acted offended at the merest sign of her affection. About how he cooked them dinner and sung for her. How he did the dishes and made sure all the throw cushions on her couch that had ended up on the floor at night would be in their designated place before he went to bed. And yes, she did also tell her about how his hands could reduce her to a shivering mess, how his body over hers made her yearn for more. Ella was a role model listener. She gasped and awed and wiggled her eyebrows at the right times.

“Girl, he sounds like a dream – a very wet dream – on two legs”, she gushed, “I mean – hard on the outside”, she snickered at her own pun, “and a softie on the inside. Those guys are the best, like Mark is exactly the same. He’s new on the force and y’know the other officers won’t stop harassing him.”

“They do that with all the rookies, Ella”, Chloe chuckled, rolling her eyes at the memories. She couldn’t count how often she had to take over an extra surveillance shift because she’d been late as she had to search for her uniform that they had hidden.

“Nah, it’s different”, the forensic scientist bright features had darkened tremendously, “Mark’s black and I can’t tell you how often I’ve already gone _loco_ at the idiots, because they’ve been layin in on him. I mean, that’s so not okay, dude. There’s a friggin limit to things.” Her mouth distorted her features as it was drawn into a grimace. “You know how it is. I’ve been hanging out a lot with him lately and”, she swallowed, “Chloe, there’s things he’s told me about his childhood and how he’s been treated in the academy… it’s sickening.”

The lines around her mouth hardened. She wouldn’t describe herself as a violent person, but the desire to pull the trigger on the bastards, the corrupt cops, the violent and crude ones flamed anew in her veins. She had felt the power the “boys in blue” radiated. It had her stomach clenching. Palmetto had proven to her that even though the solidarity of her peers could save her life in emergencies out on the field, it was dangerous and out of control. Her own husband had delivered her to the fangs of ostracism to not only safe his, but also his colleagues’ asses. Racism and corruption in her lines of work had spiraled out of control ages ago and even though she would be the one to write complaints and snap at laughing and sneering dudes on the force, she knew she was only a drop in the ocean. She had not only once played with the thought of hanging her career as a cop on a nail and leave. She couldn’t do it. She felt bile rising in her throat at the realization of contributing to such a system. As much as it would pain her – not only for her, but also for her father’s sake – Trixie wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore, she herself wouldn’t have to look her so called peers into the eyes, knowing there were more than enough who didn’t fight for justice, but only their twisted sense of satisfaction. But if she didn’t step in, who would? Who would try to seek out the foul cops, the ones that hurt and took and destroyed more than they protected. To serve and protect. They’d sworn an oath to do exactly that and they violated it on every single level she could think of and it had her eyes brimming with tears.

A sharp nod followed. “I know”, her voice grave and her eye clouded with guilt. They were her colleagues, the cops that should fight crime side by side with her. “But he’s a cutie?”

As much as she hated to steer away from the conversation, they both knew what their consensus would be. What else could she do?

“Yeah, he’s the sweetest”, a smile danced across Ella’s lips, tentatively and delicately, growing in its power, “We got coffee the other day and man, I swear – _qué_ _precioso_ , Chloe! He was all sweet and bought me my favourite drink – he knows my order!”

“What? Diabetes disguised as coffee?”

Ella giggled with a nod, “Yeah and then we talked about Star Trek!”

Chloe hid her grin in her cup. How to win a Lopez’s heart 101.

“And you know what was the cutest? He even admitted that he looked up Klingon so he could impress me with it.”

The next 15 minutes were filled with gushing and swooning and Chloe had to restrain herself from doing the same. As endearing as Ella was, the little things Lucifer did for her meant something precious that she – selfishly – wanted to keep all to herself like a closely guarded secret. The way his eyes softened and crinkled when she started chortling like a demented racoon, how his fingertips would dance a slow, loving waltz across her skin at night when he thought her asleep, the way he sought her out with an adorable little frown when she slipped out of bed at night to relieve her bladder, how he regarded Trixie with an affectionate glance when he thought no one was paying attention to him.

A content sigh escaped her as she buried her feet underneath her friend’s thighs. She had missed the unbridled enthusiasm, the quirky references to films and fandoms that she didn’t get and the occasional gruesome detail of a crime scene. Her tiny apartment was full of life and joy. Kept safe from anger and pain and violence – no matter from which front. Safe from whatever storm Lucifer’s family was brewing (or not brewing), from the resentment that came with Dan as a two-package-deal, from the corruption and greed and murder of the force, infiltrated by hatred and the feeling of superiority. Right now, in this moment she was safe, chatting with her best friend as if nothing in the world could harm them.

Three glasses of wine and Ella’s constant pestering later, her phone relayed the steady beeping of a call. From its place at the small living room table it rung loudly through the apartment.

“Detective?”

Her heart jumped up and down like an excited Labrador puppy at the sound of his voice. A small giggle escaped her lips.

“Naw, he calls you Detective! That’s so cute!” Her favorite forensic scientist gushed, hands cupping her cheeks. Quite blushed cheeks, but she couldn’t really tell as everything was mellow and swaying and warm.

“Who -?”, he paused before a languid purr escaped him, “You _must_ be Miss Lopez! I’ve heard quite a bit of you. Only the good stuff, of course.”

“Oh my Gosh, Chloe”, Ella grinned, “You’re soooo cute.”

“No, you are.” Why were words so hard to form? Oh, yeah. Wine.

“It appears you’re sloshed my love”, his chuckle had her smiling like a stupidly in love woman. Well. She was. Nodding to herself she focused on the phone on her table.

“Yooouu are the best”, she stated as seriously as she could.

“I am aware darling. I mean, not to brag, but people have told me that many times, in many positions.” His voice tilted into something deep and suggestive that had anticipation rushing down between her legs. She squirmed a little.

“Yes! I mean –“, she shook her head to free herself form the vail that held her down, “noo. You’re just the best best, you know? Like with eeverything – you do my dishes!”

Excited about the fact that she had found the perfect example for how great he was, she gestured animatedly.

“Ah”, he made the adorable little sound when he didn’t understand, “I’m afraid I can’t follow, love.”

She frowned. “You do the dishes, when … when I forget to do them. But Dan”, she huffed, “Dan would aaalways be like _“Chloe, why can’t you even do the dishes? Why are you such a bad mother? You have a boyfriend? I am sooo disappointed in you_!” Douche.”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, snuggling deeper into the cushions to escape Ella’s concerned, outstretched hand.

“I see”, something hard and clipped in his tone, “Shall I take care of Detective Douche for you?”

“Meh”, she made, somehow annoyed, “I can do it on my own.”

“Very well”, he agreed easily, “If you need me anyway, just tell me when and where.”

“You guys”, Ella gushed, “Are so cute.”

“Thank you, Miss Lopez.”

“Ella, _you_ are the cutest.”

“Naw-“

“I thought I was! _Detective_!”

“You’re the _best_! And cute, but pri – primarily the best.”

He seemed to ponder a bit as it was quiet on the line. “That’s fine then I guess.”

Silence enveloped them as did the drunken haze of red wine.

“I miss you”, she mumbled onto the pillow that she had grabbed and hugged to herself.

A sigh sounded through the living room. “I miss you too.” His voice was fond and soothing and deep and she loved him. She did. Everything submerged under the surface of slumber, like circling waves and shallow motions taking her further and further down.

“I think she’s falling asleep, buddy.”

A familiar laugh at the edge of her consciousness. “Well then, sleep tight, Detective.”

“Noooo”, she whined, “you, here, now.”

“Not possible, I’m afraid”, he sounded apologetic, “I’m on shift. Besides, I wouldn’t want to take Miss Lopez’s sleeping accomodation away.”

“Man, so nice of you.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

“But”, she swallowed against the tears, that welled up in her eyes (she really should go to bed), “I _miss_ you.”

* * *

“I…”, he trailed off. Bollocks. He yearned to climb through the line and brush her insistent strands away, cup her face with his hands and tell her that there was nothing, there was nowhere he’d rather be than with her. But the soonest he could get a way was in a little more than two hours. By then the two of them would be fast asleep. He heard shuffling and a little whine on the other line and he wanted to tell her how much he missed her, what he would give to hold her in his arms.

“Chloe?”

“Huh?”

Resting his shoulder against the wall he released a small sigh at the little sound that made his blood sing.

“I can come over tomorrow morning and make you two some brekkie, alright?”, he asked, swallowing down the nervousness – where on earth did that come from? – as he waited for an answer.

“Yeeey!”, the happy noise reached deep into his chest to tug delicately at his heart strings, resonating the lightness he had only felt as a child and filled him to the brim with longing, leaving a taste on his lips, like the one of nicotine, bitter and yet addictive.

“Heavens, you’re adorable”, he murmured to himself, unable to quench the blooming feeling that climbed along his torso to stretch its fingers for his limbs, for his tongue, waiting to be voiced. Like the flood in a hollow cave at the sea it rose in his throat, steadily and like the ocean as the sun sinks down on long summer nights to drown in its chilly arms, like gleaming gold.

He opened his mouth – vocal cords paralyzed as were his muscles –

“She fell asleep, Buddy.”

A strange sensation of relief and regret washed over him and he barked out a laugh. Of course, she did.

“Right. Well then Miss Lopez, sleep well.”

“You too, Lucifer. And by the way”, she added, speaking hastily, “I think you’re good for her.”

He paused in his attempt to push away from the cool wall.

“She’s been really happy lately. So, thanks for that.”

“I”, he didn’t know what to say. He really didn’t.

“But if you hurt her, I will come for you.”

He snorted at the thought of a tiny Latina woman – he had done his homework – racing towards him like a rabid racoon. He shuddered at the thought. Those were no fun, really.

“That I believe”, he mused, finally managing to tear himself out of his trance, “very well. I’ve got to get back to work or Maze will have my head.”

“Do that! See you!”

“Good night, Miss Lopez.”

He hung up and leaned his head into his neck, letting out a breath. Bloody hell.

_She’s been really happy lately._

So was he.


	21. Oh those beautiful mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer comes over for breakfast and Detective Douche makes an appearance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning peeps!
> 
> First things first - There are only 5 more chapters to go after this one, BUT I will be cutting down my updates to Wednesday and Saturday ... I know, it sucks and if it came down to it I would just upload everything that I have, but in order to get the sequel working and for it to be the best it can be, well, I need more time for that.^^ But not to worry, the chapters will be longer ones!
> 
> There's some confusion about Y's Gawen - it is derived from the Welsh word ysgafn which means light^^  
> It was originally planned for Lucifer to eventually own the bar and another character to be introduced... but that's one teeny tiny plot point hole that I somehow forgot about XD  
> Yes Lucifer is always fancy schmancy dressed up for work, he lives above the bar, the owner is pretty chill as long as they do their work (said owner might appear in the sequel, we will see XD) so that's that^^
> 
> Anyway, love you peeps, here you go!

A ring had her startling out of sleep, throwing off her blanket in a rush only to find herself on the floor with a muffled ‘thump’.

“Ow”, her head blared at her. That was the lack of water. Eugh.

Squinting her eyes she got to her feet, shuffling through the apartment to check who the hell would wake her at a beautiful Sunday morning. Emphasis on the beautiful.

“Hello?”, she croaked pressing her finger to the intercom.

“Good morning to you too, love”, a way too cheerful voice rung in her ears and had her temples stinging.

“Ugh.” He was lucky he’s British. And handsome.

Not able to say something else over his laughter, she opened the entrance for him, trying to stop her skull from bursting at the seams. The dull throb didn’t cease but swelled steadily, until it resembled a little troll sitting in her brain, knocking against her cranium. Another loud rapping sound startled her out of her daze and had her hand rushing forward to hold onto the doorknob. The door. Right. Shaking her head - bad idea, Decker - to rid herself of the tired haze, she pulled it open and was met with a bright grin.

“Hey”, she mumbled, letting him slip into the apartment, only for him to pull her into his arms. Sinking into his embrace the entire world seemed to bleed away, but for the ache that pulsed through her brain.

“Hello, Detective”, he said, she could hear his smile.

She hummed as she nestled into his chest, breathing in his scent as her eyes watered.

“Is someone hung over?”

She smacked his chest only to make him chortle and, well yeah no. Not good.

“Ow”, she whined, “Stop it.”

He tried to swallow down his giggles, but his heaving chest had her squirming out of his embrace.

“Sorry, love”, he grinned, not looking sorry at all. Trying to murder him with a glare had only half the desired effect with eyes puffy from sleep. He only smirked at her fondly, moving in on her, bending down to press a kiss to her lips, but she dodged it for them to land on her cheek. The peck placated the growling and spiting animal inside that was probably Hermione’s grumpy cat. Something with crook?

At his confused eyes she shrugged.

“Something crawled in there and died a slow and painful death.”

“I know.”

Puzzled she blinked up at him. “Huh?”

“Probably a rat”, he continued, “that spend the majority of its living days in a dumpster”, he took another step towards her, a smug grin on his lips as her mouth gaped open, because how dare he?

“And I don’t bloody care”, he finished, grabbing her waist and pulling her to him. She let out something between a groan and a squeak, before his lips captured hers, gentle and warm and she melted into him. As they finally parted, she grimaced, burying her face in his chest.

“That was disgusting”, she stated, having him snort amusedly, “and kind of sweet.”

“Lovely”, he mused, his fingers carding through her hair, slowly and with the utmost care they detangled her strands from each other. His fingers wove through her hair as they played the piano, with a certain lightness and the agility of a dancer, that had done nothing else but move to cascading melodies during his whole life. She sunk into him, into a cocoon of warmth and safety and home.

She didn’t know when he started to move, but a protesting whine escaped her lips at which he simply laughed and stated that someone had to prepare his _favourite racoon_ breakfast. Rude. He finally managed to peel her person from his torso and carry the canvas bag he had brought into the kitchen.

Tomatoes, cheese and onions rolled leisurely over the kitchen counter, only to be stopped by a pack of eggs and a bottle of orange juice. Not the cheap stuff made from concentrate that she always got, but luscious and gleaming orange with juicy pulp in it. Her mouth watered and a sigh escaped her.

“You are a lifesaver”, she told him only to have him smirking down at her.

“Am I ever?”

She rolled her eyes and grimaced as her head glared at her.

“I’ll go”, she gestured at nothing, “do something. Brushing my teeth”, she added at the salacious edge that sneaked into his grin.

“You can always do me, Detective”, he called after her as she made her way to the bathroom to finally get rid of her headache.

After Ella and Lucifer had finally finished discussing the implications of a trip on ecstasy (Chloe had dutifully pretended not to listen, because – plausible deniability? She’d very much like to keep her job, thank you.) they’d cleaned up and bid the forensic scientist goodbye. A friend from high school was apparently waiting for her.

She leaned against him, her back against his chest, catching his hands over her stomach.

“How’s your head, love?”, he mumbled against the delicate skin of her neck, chasing shivers along her spine.

“Better, thank you.”

***

“Mhh”, he made, pressing her further against his body, “Guess who was nursing a raging hard on the whole night, because _some_ detective decided to call him during his shift.”

She stretched out her spine, _innocently_ bumping her butt against his obvious erection.

“Do I know him?”

“Oh, you very much do.”

“I thought so”, she smirked, “You were thinking of me then, I take it?”

“How could I not?”, he nodded, teeth grazing her pulse point, while his hand slipped out of hers and wandered upwards, to press against her waist, up where her ribcage begun, fingers brushing the underside of her breast. The hair on her arms raised delicately.

“Those little sounds you made”, he shook his head as if he couldn’t believe her, his stubble scratching against the crook of her neck, “absurdly adorable. Made me think of other sounds you make. The breathless gasps you make.”

He lowered his lips to suck her skin, an involuntary gasp escaping her.

“Yes”, he murmured, the vibration of his vocal cords reverberating inside her, heat rushing down her abdomen to collect between her legs, “Exactly like that.”

His hand wandered further up, cupping her breast, while the other gripped her hip tightly holding her in place as she tried to grind against him.

“Ah, ah, ah”, he admonished lightly, “let me hear you first, Chloe.”

Her name from his lips had her writhing in his hold.

“ _Lucifer_ ”, it was something between a whine and a moan as he kneaded her boobs.

“So responsive for me”, he sighed, clearly pleased. Oh, how she wanted to please him. In so many ways. Her blood was torn between rushing through where she needed him most and her cheeks that wanted to flush with an immature kind of shame.

“Please”, she begged, wanting to feel him against her, inside of her, bent over the kitchen counter.

“Please, _what_?”, she knew he was smirking. Bucking in his grip, melting against the touch of his hands and underneath his lips she made a protesting sound. She liked being in control and holding the reins, but this – being at his mercy…. Her head fell back against his shoulder.

“I need you”, she moaned, “Please, I need you.”

She felt his grin against her skin as his teeth bruised the latter, tongue and lips gently soothing it. His hand, oh his wonderfully large hand and long fingers, wandered down, left its place at her hip and slipped between her legs, cupping her, pushing her against him.

A hoarse sound escaped her as she rocked her hips against his palm, pulses of electricity rushing through her. Her skin crawled with pleasure and need. 

“Mhm”, he groaned, “you feel so good already, love.” He tightened his grip that had her whimpering as his fingers kneaded and stroked her lips through the thin fabric of her shorts.

“You like that, right love?”

She managed nothing more than a stuttering nod as her center grinded against his fingers, his erection pressing against her butt. He moved them and a sound of protest left her lips as his fingers left her.

“Impatient, are we?” This goddamned, smug grin.

She pushed back, had him choke out her name as he shuddered.

“Play nice, Chloe. This devil would rather not have to punish you”, he growled.

His fingers slipped underneath her shorts, slipped between her lips, slick and wet and hot, with singular purpose. Sucking in a breath through her nose in an attempt to calm the raging flames that stoked inside her, she melted against him. He was everywhere, hands kneading, lips sucking kisses, him hard against the swell of her butt. He circled her clit with featherlight touches before his curious fingers sneaked further down to find her entrance for her to be reduced to a writhing and moaning mess. A finger slid into her, his breath hot against her neck.

“That’s it, love”, he murmured, carefully thrusting in and out of her, “Good?”

A nod. Her body sunk into his, strained with pleasure and need and rushing blood.

“Good.”

As he slipped a second finger into her, stretching her oh so wonderfully, a loud groan fell from her lips and when he found the spot inside her that had stars dancing across her vision, that had her legs shaking so badly that he had to hold her upright with his other hand, while she buried hers in the hair of his nape.

Begs left her mouth in a litany of chants. Pleasure chased the need to feel all of him inside her, took over control and had her grinding and shaking and whining.

“God, _Chloe_ ”, her name was nothing more than a breathless whisper, a ghost that expanded into the whole room, to fit into the ridges and corners, up to ceiling. Heat rushed along her veins to her fingertips, pushing her over the edge with the devil’s name on her lips. His mouth pressed soft kisses against her collar bone as he coaxed her through her orgasm, murmuring soft reassurances into her ear. Coming down from her high she twisted her neck to meet him with a kiss, managing only to reach the stubble of his chin. He chuckled, lifting her head to –

***

_What can I say except, you’re welcome? The sun and the sky and-_

She startled at the loud sound of her ringtone. Shit.

“That’s Trixie”, she told him, out of breath and cursing silently. Concern rose in her chest and she batted his hand away, another quiet moan escaping her as he slid his fingers out of her. Patting down her hair she hastily searched for her phone, picking up.

“Hey, Monkey! Is everything alright?”

She tried to get her breathing under control.

“Yep! Mommy, I know where I left Miss Alien!” Hectic chatter sounded in the background along with the signature rumbling of the subway.

“Daddy and I are coming over to pick her up.”

Chloe opened her mouth, a silent “oh”, blood rushing to her cheeks.

“Yes, sure”, she nodded, feeling Lucifer’s smirk against her neck, “Just ring the bell.”

“Yes, Mommy! See you!”

Before she could say anything, the weasel had hung up. Her head fell back against his shoulder. Standing there, breathing in a calming breath, to be enveloped by his scent and the sense of safety, she sighed.

“I am sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

“What”, he chuckled as his arms sneaked around her, “that I’ve got to vacate the apartment again before anybody sees me?”

“No”, she snorted, “Trixie dropped the bomb already. But”, she bit her lip as she turned in his embrace, her fingers brushing gently against his hard on, “this.”

Sharply sucking in a breath, he nodded eagerly, “I most certainly hope so.”

Standing on her tiptoes to reach him, she kissed him softly, her hands interweaving in the back of his neck. He uttered a content sound against her mouth and deepened the kiss with pleading lips that poured love and devotion, had her head spinning and her feet lifting off the ground. As they parted, both breathless and smiling like idiots, they leaned into each other, basking in the other’s presence as one does with the sinking rays of sun on a late August afternoon. Time was lost to her as she listened to his heartbeat that soothed her still a little hungover self. Her fingers had linked in the small of his back, itching to wander further up to sooth the fabric where his scars lay, while he held her loosely to himself.

“Chloe”, his deep voice pulled her out of her trance.

“Yes?”, she said into his chest and felt him take a shaking breath.

“I love you.”

Freezing in his embrace she stared at the dark fabric of his shirt, her arms unconsciously tightening around his torso. He loved her. Her. This impossible man who had been through so much, who laughed and joked and annoyed the hell out of her, who held her tightly at night as if he was afraid to find her gone in the morning, who listened to her drunken ramblings and came to her house to make her a hangover cure breakfast, _loved_ her. A delicate and yet overwhelming feeling spread throughout her whole body, like the roots of a flower fighting its way through cracking concrete. It swirled inside her like the turbulences falling petals left on the pond in Central park.

“I”, she started, not sure how to continue for her throat started to close off. She hadn’t said the words to anyone else but her daughter and maybe Ella since Dan. The night before she’d found out. The night before she’d found out about his involvement in Palmetto street.

“It’s alright”, he said, a little smile on his lips as he pressed them to her temple. Was it though? “I just wanted you to know.”

They were torn out of their reverent moment at the shrill ring at the entrance. With a groan she extracted herself from his warmth, kissing the underside of his chin as she went to open up.

“Play nice!”, she called over her shoulder as she grasped the smirk that played with the corners of his mouth.

“Detective! You wound me!”

A snort of laughter escaped her, before she pulled the door open. Steps and her daughter’s excited voice reverberated through the staircase. The previous contentment and calm foregone she raked her hands through her hair, trying to look at least a little put together.

“Munchkin”, Dan’s voice sounded from further down, “Be careful!”

“I’m eight, Dad”, the annoyance in her voice had the corners of Chloe’s mouth tugging upwards. With a last few steps the door was pushed open and her little monkey collided with her side.

“Hey Mom!”

“Hey, Trix”, she said with a grin, only to grimace as her daughter hollered, “LUCIFER!”

The latter had barely time to brace himself as she crashed into him, attaching herself to his side. Dan had finally managed to catch up with his child, stepping over the threshold, his features going through the motions in an almost comical manner. Trixie had already grabbed Lucifer by the hand and tugged him behind her towards her father.

“That’s my Dad, Lucifer! He makes the _best_ waffles in the whole world. Dad that’s Lucifer. Mom’s new boyfriend.” Proudly her little girl grinned up at the two – obviously uncomfortable – men.

Lucifer cleared his throat, holding out his hand, “Lucifer. Morningstar.”

  
“Daniel Espinoza. Nice to meet you”, his smile was more of a grimace than anything else. 

Lucifer nodded and she could tell from the way the muscle in his jaw jumped, that he swallowed down a witty remark. He glanced at her as if to say, “ _See, I’m trying_.”

Trixie darted off to retrieve her plushie and Chloe turned back to get her mug. She needed more caffeine for this, even though the orgasm had definitely helped with waking up. She suppressed the smirk that curled the corners of her mouth, along with the blush that threatened to overtake her cheeks.

“Listen”, she perked up at Dan’s low voice, “I don’t know you, so no offense here, but Chloe is the mother of my child, so if you hurt her or my kid, two of us’ve got a problem.”

Inwardly she cringed because coming from her ex, coming from _Dan_ this was grand.

Lucifer let out an amused sound – calculated and dark.

“You see, Daniel”, his words carefully held level, “Maybe you should have taken your own advice to heart to start with. Because I assure you – the two of us have already got a problem, _Douche._ ”

The hint in his words had Dan pausing, eyes flickering between Lucifer’s and her figure.

“You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about”, he hissed.

“Oh, don’t I ever?”

For once Chloe wished he would know when to shut up.

“Dan”, she tried to intervene, but he cut her off.

“You know what, Chlo, I don’t even care anymore. You’re talking shit about me with him – fine. Whatever. I thought better of you, though.”

She flinched back as if he’d swung his hand only for it to halt millimeters from her cheek. _Thought better of you, Chlo. I am disappointed in you. Couldn’t you just have dropped it?_

“I”, she began, anger boiling in her chest.

“No, see, it’s always about you and what you think is right. You never once thought about how this would affect _me_ and my relationship with _my_ kid.”

It had her mouth opening and closing, desperately trying to grasp for something to say, some snappish remark to it, because really, all she’d ever done was to think about everyone else. Her eyes began burning, but she blinked rapidly. She would not give him the satisfaction of breaking her.

“And then you start something with another guy, just after we’ve gotten divorced… I mean I thought I, our marriage meant at least something to you, but-“

“That’s _enough._ ”

Lucifer had inserted himself in the space between them, shoulders broad and posture radiating power. His voice cut through the apartment like icy steel, forged by an artesian blacksmith.

“You will _not_ talk to her like this”, he continued, voice dangerously quiet, “Chloe is one of the most honorable, most selfless persons known to me. All she’s ever done was for the good of others, so suck it up and deal with your own misdoings like the proud male that you assert yourself as.”

His words dripped with distaste towards the end, managing to have Dan taking a step back.

“Get out of my face, man.”

He glanced towards the door, behind which his daughter had disappeared.

“I will, if you get out of the Detective’s.”

“Or what?”

Chloe could hear the smirk that formed on his face.

“Oh”, a shiver chased down her spine from pleasure or alarm she didn’t know, “You’d make a delightful opponent. Too bad that you’re just visiting. You missing for a few days would cut your Daddy-daughter time terribly short. We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Time seemed frozen in shock, frozen as her muscles, frozen as even her furniture seemed to hold its breath.

“Threatening a police officer”, Dan began as he tore himself out of his petrification.

“I got her!”

The world melted back into the flow of seconds and minutes at her daughter’s happy squeal, as did Lucifer’s posture. Jumping towards her father’s arms she giggled as he caught her, more as a reflex than anything else.

“That’s amazing, Monkey”, Chloe swallowed down the trepidation, brushing her knuckles softly against the small of her partner’s back in a silent “ _It’s okay. I am here._ ” 

“So, what are the two of you going to do today?”, she tried to keep her tone light.

“We’re going to see Alex the Lion!”

“Central Park Zoo”, Dan mumbled at the same moment.

She chuckled and leaned into Lucifer’s side, his arm automatically coming up to her waist. She relished in the safety it radiated, having him reach out and showing her that he had her back.

“Have fun then. And I want pictures”, she grinned, ignoring the way Dan’s eye narrowed at her subtle display of affection.

“We’ll take sooo many!”, Trixie reassured her, wriggling out of her father’s arms to attach herself to her hip.

“Bye, Monkey. Have fun”, she said, gently carding her fingers through her hair. Her daughter nodded against her belly, before she repeated the same process with the legs of the man next to her.

“Ah”, he made, awkwardly as ever, carefully lowering his hand to her head, patting it, “Yes do that, urchin. “

“Bye Lucifer”, she grinned up at him, hopping back to her Dad and with a last wave and a cold stare, they disappeared behind the door.

Nestling into his side they released a collective breath.

“What a douche.”

She huffed in agreement, before intertwining their fingers.

“Thank you”, she murmured quietly, hating how Dan had stripped her of her defenses in a matter of words, “Normally I’m not like … that.”

That weak, that pathetic. That easily brought to tears. That easily hurt.

He hugged her a little tighter to himself.

“I know, love. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”


	22. Broken paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning peeps! 
> 
> I missed you guys, believe if or not XD
> 
> Well there is not much to say ^^  
> lets get right to it
> 
> p.s. The bar owner is called Josh XD

Trixie’s birthday came and went, left a flat full of torn wrapping paper – colors of all sorts – along with new toys and smarties that could be found underneath the bookshelf and between the couch’s cushions days after the event. Lucifer had decided to give the _Douche and the present hordes of hell_ space as he called the little party hosted by her Monkey. It had definitely cost her at least half of the month’s quota of nerves, even if she only had hosted the pre-Aquarium period. One and a half excruciating hours of chocolate cake stains and sticky fingers everywhere (Lucifer would have had a nervous breakdown at the sight), the _hordes of hell_ had left her apartment. At least she’d been able to relax as Anne and Dan had taken it upon themselves to guard the little hellions (she started to sound like a specific, devilishly handsome bartender) as they made their way to the aquarium. Instead of ushering kids from A to B, trying not to lose anyone, she sat with Ella and Maze on her couch, gossiping about men and whatever the world had to offer – in Maze case the UFC. Secretly Chloe would bet all her money on Maze should she ever participate in a MMA fight.

Lucifer had dropped by a few hours later, when Trixie lay exhilarated but exhausted in front of the TV, when the apartment was in a respectable condition and everyone had left. With hushed and gentle words, he had sat down next to her daughter, had put a small rectangle into her lap and waited with eyes full of apprehension and softness for her to open it up only to reveal a necklace, a golden star strung onto the thin chain. “It’s the Morningstar” he had told her wide brown eyes, “For you to know that I am always with you”, he had added in an even quieter tone as if to guard a delicate secret. When she had hugged him this time, he hadn’t tried to squirm his way out of her embrace but had pulled her carefully into his arms and held her tight. Later, when they’d snuggled up against each other at night, she’d pressed a kiss against his lips and told him she loved him. His eyes had been full of wonder, full of hope and love and everything he couldn’t put in words but showed her with his body.

\---

Only few patrons occupied the bar, ogling curiously at the casefiles she had spread all over the counter, her teeth abusing the pen in her hand. Her hair fell out of her ponytail for the umpteenth time and just as she wanted to lift her fingers, the strand was affectionately brushed behind her ear by an oh so familiar hand, that gently cupped her face. His lips pressed against hers as she lifted her head and stretched towards him. A smile broke loose on her face, her nose brushing his as she felt him grin.

“Hey, you”, she chuckled as they parted. His eyes, dark and fond in the dim light, crinkled with happiness at their corners.

“Hello, love.”

Her heart sung with joy at the pet name that she’d grown to adore.

“I made you another coffee.”

He nodded towards the refilled cup that sat invitingly at the corner.

“Thank you”, she pecked his stubbled cheek.

“You’re most welcome.”

For a moment they just hovered in each other’s space, before a tea towel got hurled through the air to hit the back of Lucifer’s neck.

“Maze!”, he hollered, features disgruntled at the interruption.

“You’re here to work, not to flirt with your lady love!” The dark woman rolled her eyes and gestured towards the glasses that had to be put back to their original spot.

Huffing a put-upon sigh, he pressed his lips to her temple.

“Farewell, Detective”, he said, voice deep and sorry, hiding a laugh.

“Dork”, she grinned and shoved him for him to chortle and return, like a scolded dog, to Maze’s side who sent her a sly wink.

Working in content focus she was only interrupted by occasional kisses and glances that Lucifer sent her. Giddiness had given way to an everlasting warmth that never waned, not even at the nights he had to work and she lay alone in her bed, wishing him by her side. Her eyes followed his tall figure as it leaned against the counter, joking with one of the patrons, a black man with crinkling eyes and a bright smile on his lips. Lucifer’s expression lit up with the exuberant joy he always radiated when the topic fell onto his beloved piano and he gestured excitedly. _Musicians_. His gaze caught hers for a split second and the cheerful grin morphed into something gentler. His mouth formed _I love you_ to glide through the room veiled by the velvety scent of high-end tobacco.

Shaking her head affectionately she sent him an imaginary kiss. He made show out of catching it, holding it to his heart and pretending to blush, making her and the man he was talking to laugh out loud.

Leaning back over her casefiles – albeit not very interesting ones – she rested her head in the palm of her hand. Her pen flitted over the tables, the list of transactions of the victim in the last six months. There had to be a connection to the cartel. There had to be. Why else would he end up dead, just a day after his deal went downhills? Pearls of sweat tickled her neck for her to wipe them away. The tingle in the back of her neck didn’t cease and made her shift in annoyance. It was way too hot in here.

She could hear the door opening with a small thud and welcomed the gust of fresh air that accompanied the incoming visitor. Sucking in a grateful gulp of oxygen, tasting sweet on her tongue after the stuffy air in the bar. She lifted her head as if to thank who ever had allowed her the luxury of taking a cleansing breath only for her eyes to fall onto a woman making her way down the few stairs, gaze searching the room. The red hem of her dress billowed slightly in the draft. Her features lit up with relief as she brushed back her dark curls that fell over her shoulders the way an untamed waterfall thundered downwards.

“Sam!”

Her exclaim rung in Chloe’s ears as if the name was something she should know but couldn’t put her finger on. She followed the woman’s line of sight only to find it resting on Lucifer. He slowly put the glass down as if speechless. His eyes, first glued to the woman flickered towards hers only to catch them, wide and terrified. _Sam_. He had been called Sam. Before. The world drifted and lifted itself out of its hinges as if to fall apart, twisting and turning.

“Eve?”

His croak had the bar fall quiet as if muted, silent enough to hear a pin drop. The woman’s lips curled into a barely there smile as she nodded.

Eve. _The_ Eve _._ How was that even possible? Wasn’t she-? Petrified by shock she sat, wanting to get up, but it felt wrong, everything felt awfully _wrong_. Sam and Eve. Eve. She was _alive_. How was she alive?

The universe stood still as if holding its breath and with his leap it decided to start spinning again. With a few strides he was around the counter, crashing into the woman, clutching onto her for dear life.

“How-?”, Chloe could hear him choke out as _Eve’s_ slender arms came around him.

As if hit by the sheer force of her presence, the fact that she was indeed here, indeed alive he swayed, _they_ swayed; legs not able to hold himself properly upright. Harsh breaths left him that morphed into keening sobs as he buried his face in her hair, body curling in a tight grip around her delicate frame.

Chloe’s head spun relentlessly, not letting her catch her breath. She wanted to ask, wanted to question and make sense of it all, but her heart was breaking at the sight of her partner – the person who had always carried the burden of his past on proud shoulders – fall apart like this. His body was trembling in anguish and disbelief as he tried pulling his face back, trying to form words, only to bump his head against hers as he didn’t manage to speak, shaking from watery chokes as he buried his nose back in her hair. Eve’s fingers threaded through the hair in the back of his neck to soothe him. Chloe should be there and do exactly that. Her eyes burned with unshed tears as did Eve’s. So unlike hers they brimmed with pain all the same.

Patrons ogled at the pair, intertwined in a way that made one question where the one began and the other ended, as they melted in white and charcoal and blood red. Tightly gripping onto each other in a desperate attempt to hold the breaking pieces together after five years of separation. Of five years of him believing her dead. How wasn’t she? Maze stared at the two of them, mouth hanging slightly open with sheer confusion.

Lucifer’s – _Sam’s_ – sobs tore through the stirring murmurs, loud enough for her to make out the few strung together sentences he was able to form. _I love you_ reached her above the bar’s discordant melodies _I love you so much. I love you._

Chloe’s blood froze in her veins. He loved her. He did.

_It seems like there’re still feelings left from your side._

_There always will be_.

Her sight blurred not for the pair in front of her, but for the foul sensation that clawed its way from her stomach along her throat, clinging to her gums.

_I’d just like to hold her on my arms one last time and tell her how much I love her._

How much he _loves_ her. Not loved her. She knew it wasn’t fair. She knew it wasn’t, because for heaven’s sake, he had believed her dead, killed by his family! In a motion that was learned more than anything she swept her files into a pile and into her bag, shouldered it as she slipped a bill onto the counter and slid through the room – as invisible as she could make herself, wanting to melt into the shadows – towards the door. She knew it wasn’t fair. She knew it wasn’t, but the fact that the man who had just kissed her with a smitten grin, who had made love to her last night and breakfast for her and her daughter in the morning was now holding onto another woman, whispering oaths of his devotion into her hair was too much. She pushed open the door, world swimming and a faint “ _Detective, look who_ –“ ringing in her ears as she disappeared into the bustling city.

* * *

Time had lost all its meaning as he breathed in her scent, familiar and yet different; a spice to it that he couldn’t decipher but in a split second he was back at the night that he had told her he wanted out, his frame curled into hers. Her body against his felt like it always had, warm and nestled into his tall one. For all he didn’t understand, he didn’t care. She was here. Eve was here and safe and alive in his arms, while he shook and sobbed, he knew he was. He didn’t care. Couldn’t care. Why would he care, when her hair tickled his nose the way it did back then, when they lay tangled in the afterglow, fingers intertwined?

“ _Eve_ ”, he croaked and for the first time in five years her name tasted like pomegranates and lush berries on his tongue instead of the metallic tingle of blood and despair.

“I’m here”, she hushed him – god, he had missed her voice, her wonderful, soft voice, “I am here, Sam. It’s okay, I am okay. I am fine. I’m here.”

He just managed a nod and sucked in a slow breath. The moment his name had left her lips he had believed he had finally lost his grip on reality, that his mind had finally caved into all the past trauma to create a ghost of his past, taunt him with what he had lost; but then his gaze had met Chloe’s. He had seen the sudden understanding dawning in it. Chloe.

Finally, being able to lift his head, he exhaled, exhaled all the anguish and the bloody inconvenient emotions that had overpowered him. He pulled back to meet her eyes, as brown and warm as he remembered them to be and with that the world tilted back into its axis, righted the wrongs of the past in a way that had his sight blurring with relief. His hand searched for hers, slipping his fingers between hers to grip them tightly as a reassurance that she wouldn’t suddenly disappear. A watery smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Her hand lay small and delicate as ever in his.

“Detective”, he turned, gaze automatically seeking her out, “look, who-“

He cut off. The place she’d occupied was vacated. Gone was her leather jacket, hanging on the little hook under the bar, gone were the casefiles strewn across the counter. The only trace left of her was the crumpled bill that rested next to the half-empty cup of coffee. She knew she didn’t pay here.

“Detective?”

Where was she? His heart thundered in his chest, tired of the sprint it had just had run, agitated at the thought of her gone. Eve’s thumb caressed the back of his hand in known circles. He tightened his grip as he turned to Maze, her dark eyes – sharp and calculating – met his. Her brows furrowed in a way that told him she couldn’t help him either. The world wouldn’t stop spinning, wouldn’t give him a bloody break. His fingers wiped across his eyes – a boyish gesture, but he didn’t care. He didn’t understand. Nothing of it. What was happening? Where was Chloe?

“She left”, Frank – the touring pianist he had been talking to – told him. Had he spoken out loud?

“She appeared to be in a hurry, to be fair.”

_She left._

But why? Was everything alright with the urchin? Where – _fuck_. His stomach lurched in the sick motion he had longed to forget. This was not ideal. But she couldn’t possibly think, that-? His skin burned in guilty waves as he tried to suck in a deep breath. Chloe knew he loved her. She knew that. But – something dark gnawed at the edge of his consciousness at the thought of hurting her. Holding another woman close in his arms certainly could have contributed to that. He had fucked up, somehow. Bloody inconvenient emotions.

He took a step back, never letting go of Eve’s hand in his, never going too far, for him to be able to smell her perfume, to feel the warmth of her body seeping through the fabric of his shirt. His fingers searched for his phone, still shaking, unlocking and calling her in the same instant. It rung and rung and –

_Chloe Decker speaking. Please leave me a message after the signal and I will try to call you back._

Shit. He hung up and tried again, with no avail. A strong hand on his shoulder maneuvered him towards the bar, got him to sit down as he listened to her voice, curt and straight forward as always.

“There you go”, deep words told him,” you should drink something.”

Drink. Yes. That seemed like a good idea.

“Whisky. Stat.”

It was telling that Maze didn’t reprimand him for his working moral but slid a decanter and tumbler towards him. Drinking and other frivolous activities during working hours had never been much of a bother to the both of them - or Josh for that matter. He glanced at her, trying to convey his gratitude, but he knew he failed miserably. This was Maze though. She always understood.

“Sam”, he couldn’t look at her, “I think you should have some water. “

Something inside bristled at the name – _it was not who he was anymore –_ it was a mere shadow, a ghost of his past. He scoffed, before pouring himself a drink, tossing it down. The burn set his throat aflame with soft fires. Yes. This felt right.

“Lucifer”, he managed to say, fiddling with his phone to send off a text. It took him a few tries to get the words right. Bloody autocorrect.

_Chloe, Eve is here. She’s alive._

No answer.

_Where are you? Are you alright?_

“What did you say?”

How was it that even now her voice sung like golden honey? Eve squeezed his hand and he swallowed down another gulp of alcohol, before he could look at her.

“I…”, he searched for words to properly articulate himself, “my name is Lucifer, now.”

Well, that hadn’t worked out quite as well as he had intended it to.

“Oh”, she made, her mouth a perfect little circle as she looked up to him with those wide eyes that reminded him of the does that grazed the meadows at the edge of the forest. Back “home”.

“Okay. _Lucifer._ ”

His name, _his_ name, slipped from her lips in a playful melody. A stupid and childish protest rose in him. He wanted his Detective, he wanted Chloe to say his name like this. Also the third call went to voicemail.

_Please call me back, love._

His head was spinning, his gut wrenching. What was this even?

“Aren’t you”, he directed his attention from his screen back to Eve as she swallowed, brushing back one of her own strands, “aren’t you happy to see me?”

He gaped at her.

“Am I not-? Are you serious right now?”

She bit her lip, eyes roving along the bar to avoid his.

“Eve, _darling_ ”, her pet name slipped from his tongue like a well-practiced song from his fingers and his chest tightened uncomfortably at it, “While above all I am more than confused”, the back of his hand caressed her cheek, her leaning into it, “I”, he swallowed, blinking away the stubborn tears, “God, you have no idea what it was like – I’m just so glad you’re _here._ That… that-“, he let out a shuddering breath.

He remembered breaking down in the doorframe, legs no longer able to support his weight, remembered forgetting the cops pitiful glances, remembered sitting on the floor of her flat – the place they’d called their home – pills staring temptingly at him, waiting for him to fall into their embrace of temporary oblivion.

“I’m sorry”, pressing a slow kiss to his palm she looked up at him, her gaze swimming, “I am so, so sorry, Sa- Lucifer”, she quickly corrected, “I wanted to tell you, I did. I really did! But I didn’t know whether I could, whether it was safe to do so and –“

“I know.”

His voice was hollow.

“I know.”

* * *

She had ignored the buzzing of her phone as she had made her way to the subway, had ignored the persistent tears that had welled up in her eyes. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t. But it hurt, because where did it leave her? Where did it leave her if he loved Eve? Where did it leave the traveling fingertips and loving banter, breakfast just the three of them and coffee readily sitting in a travel mug for her bring to work? Where did it leave affectionate glances and secret kisses and murmured words of love?

The grip around her bag tightened as she got onto the subway, avoiding strangers’ quick glances. Not that anyone cared really.

His eyes, wide and terrified had met hers, had spoken of a silent confession. _Sam._ How could _Lucifer_ ever be a Sam? But that was who he had been. That was who he had been with _her,_ with Eve, back in the UK. How could she-? She swallowed down the choke. How could she love him, know him, _truly_ know him if she didn’t even know the person who he had been? If she didn’t know this part of him? The name had ripped a tear into their found trust like the claws of betrayal. Like burnt, black tar sticking to the soles of her boots in summer. Like a mirror image suddenly splitting into two as it did in nightmares. Her heart trembled in her chest as did her phone in her pocket, but she ignored it. Both of it.

 _It was still Lucifer_. Or was it? How could she know which part was Lucifer and which wasn’t? Who was the man that she’d fallen in love with, full of inappropriate innuendo and hidden pain? Who was _Sam_ – a previously abstract figure that had lifted itself out of the smudged shadows?

What of them was him and what wasn’t? Or was it all the same? Sucking in another breath she tried to claim her thoughts, tried to pry them from her mind’s insecure fingers. She tried to focus on how he had whispered the very same words into her ear in the morning as he did now with Eve.

_I love you_ , he had murmured, stubble brushing against the crook of her neck as he had hugged her from behind.

_So you keep saying_ , she had teased him lightly, had let her fingers dance across his intertwined hands on her belly.

She had been able to feel his grin against her skin. _I just really do._

The first tear finally broke free and fell in a silent rivulet down her cheek. Did he? Or – or had she just been someone to fill the void of his heart, someone to replace Eve’s warm body in his bed, in his life? And if that was the case what did it make her now that she was back? If she _was_ nothing more than a replacement – if? 

Finally in her apartment she released a long breath, to inhale the sense of home and safety that hung in the air. She made her way into the living area, loading of her bag and blindly fishing for the waistcoat she knew Lucifer had left on the couch. She tossed it into the tiny closet in her room. Sinking down against the foot of her bed in a way that had become familiar when she had first moved to New York, she let her face drop into her head and gave her tears the permission to fall and wet the skin beneath her fingers.

Trixie coming home had been her salvation for she could direct her attention towards something else, her phone on purpose forgotten in the pocket of her jacket. She read her Coraline for hours, had a little intimate tea party with Miss Alien and Hugo, the Stegosaurus, for them eventually to end up curled into each other at the couch to watch Leave it to Leslie with steaming bowls of pasta. Laying snuggled up together on her daughter’s bed with her munchkin already fast asleep. Holding her small frame tight to her body she stared at the fluorescent stars twinkling on the dark ceiling, wishing she could see the real ones and – her chest constricting as she silently admitted it – for her boyfriend and somehow best friend to be there with her.

Somehow, she had found her way to her bed, phone dutifully retrieved from the hallway and plugged in at her bedside table, but messages and calls unchecked and had fallen into a shallow slumber.

The buzz had her picking up her phone in an instant – automatized and quick.

“Decker?”, she mumbled, eyes burning with fatigue as she blinked into the dull orange glow that her dark room was dipped in.

“Hey”, the broken and slurred syllable was enough for her to know his voice. Her heart stopped and stung and yet she couldn’t hang up.

“Are you drunk?”, she asked instead of all the things she really wanted to know.

“Very”, he admitted darkly – nearly amused.

**3:25** her phone told her in a whisper. **4 missed calls** and **5 unread messages from Lucifer** it added quite reproachfully.

She swallowed down her own hurt, her own pain.

“Are you okay?”

The snort could have fooled her, had the hoarse undertone been missing.

“My ex has somehow arisen from the dead, telling me she’d been hiding for the last five years without me knowing, so no, I don’t believe so.”

His last words shook and so did her fingers. Carefully she maneuvered herself into a sitting position, not knowing what to say.

“And then you were not – you were gone and didn’t pick up and well”, he released a watery laugh, “I’m so bloody drunk.”

“I can tell”, she whispered.

The pause that followed allowed her to hear her blood rushing through her body.

“I don’t know anymore.”

Her heart lurched in her chest. What didn’t he know anymore? Didn’t he – she didn’t allow herself to continue the thought. He wasn’t supposed to sound that lost, that defeated.

“Don’t know what anymore?”

She was nearly afraid to ask and in a desperate sense of naiveté begging for him to still love her.

“Everything”, strangled, “I am so bloody glad and I love her, I do, but-“

The only thing keeping her from releasing a wrenched sob were her clenched teeth, her hand pressed to her sternum. _I love her, I do._ Why did he have to be drunk for this? Why couldn’t he just stop?

“but, _Chloe_ ”, he sounded as if he was crying himself, “ _Chloe_ , what does it make me that I don’t want to be with her, but with you?”

She sucked in a heavy breath, trying to gulp down the stale air of her room.

“I – I swore myself to always love her one way or another, but now that she’s back… I find myself wanting _you_. I love you _too_ – something I haven’t even thought possible”, words fell from his lips unbridled, “I care for you so much it hurts, because I’m not even sure anymore if I should, but I _do._ And it hurts, everything hurts. Why won’t it stop hurting?”

“Lucifer”, his name left her lips in a formless whimper.

“And I am sorry. Chloe, I am sorry. I – I didn’t want to hurt you and I know I did and I”, a harsh sound, “I don’t know what the bloody fuck to do.”

An inappropriate and unwanted chortle left her lips at the innovative curse.

“S-sorry”, the giggle, watery and snooty, ignored her attempts of stopping it. It was morose really.

She could hear him breathe as if to calm himself.

“I love your laugh”, he told her, voice steady.

“The deranged raccoon.”

At that he laughed, maybe a little desperate and surely more than a little drunk, but her heart sung with joy.

“The best deranged racoon.”

A pause.

“I wish you were here.”

Her chest warmed at it, clutching her cardigan closer to herself. Maybe they could do it. Maybe – but this was a conversation for when both of them were – mostly – sober and properly awake. Right now she was too exhausted to keep up the pretenses.

“Me too.”

He sighed something that sounded like relief.

“Can I come over?”

She shook her head at his tentative question.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea”, she said gently, throat hurting from the suppressed sobs from before, cheeks wet, “it’s late, Trixie’s asleep and you’re drunk. Let’s do this tomorrow, or well, the day after tomorrow, when you’re sober and we’ve both had time to digest everything, okay?”

“Okay”, he mumbled and she could practically see his pout, “I miss you.”

“Miss you too, Satan”, she said, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. They could do this. She didn’t know how, but something inside her was sure they could.


	23. The past is in the past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Chloe talk and Linda saves the day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning peeps! 
> 
> The response to my last chapter was overwhelming! o.O I am so grateful for your support! 
> 
> Yes, Eve is back and we'll be dealing with the aftermath of that revelation from now on^^
> 
> in this chapter something [ kitlyn_221B ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitlyn_221B/pseuds/kitlyn_221B) said will be worked out!
> 
> I am especially grateful for [Ana_ana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ana_ana/pseuds/Ana_ana), which whom I've been chatting quite a bit on instagram! ^^
> 
> I love all of your comments and I am so grateful for all the kudos and bookmarks and reads. Truly.
> 
> (work has begun on Monday - I love it it's the best XD)
> 
> Here you go peeps!

The day had passed in a blink, she barely managed to catch a breath in the whirlwind of emotions and chores and work and – he had texted her. Whether they could talk. Raking her hands through her greasy hair she took a deep breath and decided that she wasn’t ready. She truly wasn’t, but then again – did it matter?

**Okay. At the little café opposite Y’s Gawen?**

She gnawed at her lips, knowing that the location might throw him off. But they needed it. They needed the neutral ground. She would not allow this mess to move in with her.

_As you wish, detective. When?_

She could literally feel him retracting, pulling himself into his cocoon of walls that he had carefully built up, pulling back all his emotions in a way to preserve himself. Her mind whirled, going through impending shifts and therapist appointments and Trixie’s schedule.

**Tomorrow at 11:30?**

_Very well. I’ll be there._

Releasing a breath she sunk into her chair, phone uselessly clattering onto her desk, head resting in her hands and her praying for her colleagues to leave her alone. Apprehension had her in a tight grip for she could still see Eve in front of her inner eye, could still hear his whispered _I love you_ when it was not directed to her, could still hear his sobs and choked of breaths.

_Chloe, what does it make me that I don’t want to be with her, but with you?_

He wanted to be with her, she repeated silently, he wanted to be with her, not Eve. She owed him the talk, because no matter how lost she was with all of this, so was he. She could at least try to be there for him.

_You’re amazing_ , voice soft as if he couldn’t believe her.

A hand slapping the top of her pile of files as if they were the roof of a soon to be sold car tore her out of her daze.

“Everything alright there, partner?”

Maria stared down at her, dark brows nearly touching in concern.

“You look like, well”, she shrugged, “shit.”

“Thanks”, Chloe deadpanned, rubbing her face, “It’s just…”

“Love sucks?”, she provided helpfully. The blonde had to suppress a snort.

“One could say that”, her eyes roved over her lanky partner, deep rings under her dark eyes that had been badly covered with concealer, a shade lighter than Maria would’ve liked, she knew. “You okay?”

Dark curls spilled over her shoulders as she rolled her eyes in a very tired, very resigned way.

“It’s always peachy if the woman you’re crushing on finally admits she’s straight. But what’s new, right?”

A sigh left her in a rush as she regarded the woman that had her hip propped against her desk.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nah”, she waved her off, “It’s fine. Wanna solve a homicide and throw yourself into work to avoid thinking about it?”

The grin spreading on Chloe’s face ignored the dread that was eating up her insides. “Lead the way, partner.”

* * *

His leg didn’t jump as he sat, hands folded in front of his face as his sight blurred. His eyes were burning from sleep deprivation and tears. The vice that lay around his chest didn’t think about easing. He swallowed and still tasted alcohol. He had to be reeking.

The doctor’s eyes were narrowed as she took him in, a heap of misery on the couch in front of her.

“Lucifer, what’s wrong?”

Her question nudged him, insistent and yet gentle. An exhausted exhale fell from his lips as she looked at him, ready to take some of the weight of his shoulders.

“I”, he croaked, voice shaking before it broke. A watery sniff. Her features were inviting, soft and for a moment her was reminded of his mother.

“Eve is back”, he managed to say only for her mouth to fall open. For a moment they sat in disbelieving silence, that would have him shifting if he had the energy for it.

“Eve as in your lost partner? Who was killed…”

She trailed off as he nodded.

“The very same.”

He knew, she had questions, desperate questions that burned on her lips as she regarded him, but she held herself back.

“All the logistics aside”, she began slowly, “this must be hard on you.”

“I just don’t – I don’t know”, he stuttered, helplessly gesturing. Aside from the fact that his remaining, non-intoxicated braincells were having a blast instead of working, he felt like curling up somewhere and not getting up again.

“Don’t know what?”, she tried to help. But how could she help him, if he wasn’t even sure what was going on?

His mouth worked silently as he shook his head, eyes pleading her as he couldn’t convey the mess inside of him with words.

She nodded compassionately as she scrunched up her face as she tried to figure out a way to approach the topic at hand. Over the past four years he had seen that look plenty on her.

“Can you explain how it makes you feel that Eve is back?”

A shudder ran along his spine as he drew his arms tightly around himself. Nothing could ever compare to holding her in his arms again.

“Relieved, I am so bloody _relieved_ ”, he chocked at the last word. Sucking in a sharp breath to suppress the sob that rose in his chest, he blinked his tears away. He had been sure that there couldn’t possibly be liquid left in his body for him to lose.

He appreciated the fact that the doctor didn’t push him as he got himself under control.

“But…”, his teeth abused his lip, something he never did. He fell silent as the sickening lurch had him swallow down the contents of his stomach that he hadn’t expelled yet.

“But what? What is hurting you so much?”

Her voice was so empathetic it broke his heart. He shouldn’t have brought any of them into this mess. His lip quivered.

“She was alive, Doctor”, he finally blurted out, sight blurring, “the whole bloody time she’s been alive and”, he swallowed, “and if I had just _looked_ for her. If I hadn’t – if I hadn’t _given up_ on her, we could’ve – we could’ve…”

None of this would’ve happened. They could had had their happy ending. If he just hadn’t left.

“Lucifer, it wasn’t your fault”, the doctor’s words broke through the vail of pain, “none of this is your fault. I need you to understand that. How could you have possibly known that she didn’t die? How could you?”

He only stared at her, eyes glassy and sniffing.

“I…”, he searched for words, “I don’t know.”

“Then don’t blame yourself”, she said, compassion oozing out of her very being, “Is that the reason you feel so guilty?”

His gaze roamed around the room, looking at everything but her. Were the curtains new?

“I take this as a no. What else do you feel guilty for, Lucifer?”

A pause for him to fill, but he stayed silent.

“Is it because you’re in a relationship with another woman? With Chloe?”

He flinched as he swallowed the knot in his throat. How was it that she could read him so well? He nodded, another tear trailing down his cheek. Shame gnawed at his insides. How could he try to be happy with another woman when Eve had waited for years? How could he deny her what she had so desperately yearned for when they’d been ripped apart so violently?

“Lucifer. It’s been five years. It’s only natural for you to move on. And despite how – how unfair this is to you, to Eve, to what you had together – it’s okay to move on.”

“It’s not unfair”, he snapped, grief spilling across his cheeks, “it’s _unjust_!”

“It is”, she agreed gently, “it is. But it’s okay to move on.”

For a while it was just his ragged breath that filled the room.

“I hurt her”, he blurted out – stifled sobs still ringing in his ears, a phantom of two nights ago.

“I am aware that this will be painful for Eve to accept, but –“

  
“Not Eve. Chloe.”

“Oh?”, she lifted her brows for him to explain.

“I – when Eve came to my work, I… I thought I had lost my bloody mind. And Chloe was there too and then I realized that I hadn’t and… and I told Eve I loved her, because … it was something I regretted so deeply, not knowing whether she knew that and”, he was aware he was rambling, but now that the floodgates had opened he couldn’t stop, “and I told her I loved her and I think Chloe heard that and I… I hurt her and I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to hurt her.”

“But Chloe knew that it was _Eve_ , didn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“And she did know the facts, that Eve was declared dead five years ago and that you were in a relationship with her?”

“Yes, of course”, he said, sniffing.

“Then there is nothing you need to feel sorry for.”

He balked at that.

“Didn’t you listen? I hurt her and –“

His mouth snapped shut as she raised her hand.

“I know. And yes, you did hurt her, but you will agree with me that this was a situation beyond your control.”

He nodded.

“Chloe might feel hurt, but your reaction was by no means unpredictable or irrational. And I think despite whatever she might feel, she knows that.”

“But-“

“Lucifer, _you_ are my patient. Not Chloe. Her unresolved issues are neither my nor your responsibility. I need you to understand that – despite the hurt feelings and the impossible situation that you are in – you are _not_ at fault here. Chloe has all the necessary information to know that even if you told Eve that you love her, that is has nothing to do with her position as your partner, but the fact that you _lost her._ ”

He looked at her, still at war with himself. He was helplessly swimming against a storming sea, trying to keep his head above water. If the doctor told him that this was his lifeline, he would bloody well hold onto it.

He nodded in acceptance, before he croaked out, “I still don’t know what I am supposed to do. I just … I don’t _know_.”

The blonde woman hummed, eyes behind the thick rimmed glasses wandering.

“I think it comes down to one simple question”, she said, “If you put everybody else’s feelings aside-”

He focused on her, desperate for something, anything that he could use.

“What do _you_ truly desire?”

He took a breath, another one. Eve’s face swam in front of his inner eye, happy brown eyes only to be replaced by a witty glare and amused smirks, nights spent tangled up in one another. He wanted to be free. He wanted to leave his past behind, all the chaos and ghosts behind and move on. He wanted to come home and be accepted. For who he was. _Home_.

_“I want to be with Chloe_ ”, he whispered.

The doctor smiled, “Then everything else comes second.”

* * *

She should’ve known that distracting herself with cases wouldn’t quench the sickening feeling in her stomach. Her fingers brushed over the fabric of her shirt and felt stupid. The dark cotton was studded with little stars and she had found herself beautiful when she had put it on. But how could it ever compete with the flowing red of Eve’s dresses? How could she _ever_ compete? Shaking her head, she shut down the thought. This was neither the time nor the place for her self-doubt.

The bell at the door happily announced her arrival and in the instant that she had entered she felt his gaze on her. Sitting on one of the tables in the corner, his figure leaned against the back rest, fingers playing with something in them. He looked good. Neither healthy nor content, but good. Black suit hugging his shoulders lovingly and white shirt crinkling cheerfully underneath it, while a proud, red pocket square dotted his chest. His eyes followed her as she greeted the boy behind the counter and made her way towards the table. A gentle, tired smile played with the corners of his mouth as she took a seat.

“You look beautiful”, he greeted her and would it have been anyone else, she would’ve brushed it off as meaningless, but it came from him.

“Thanks”, she said and swallowed down the naïve, _Really?_ _You think so?_

Silence fell upon them, filled with the old woman’s complaining to her husband at the table across the room and the steady roaring and spluttering of the coffee machine.

“I”, he spoke and only now she realized how hoarse his voice was, “I ordered you your favourite.”

The timid smile he sent her wavered ever so slightly.

“Thank you.”

She meant it. His eyes sought out hers, red rimmed and exhausted as they were. She bit her lip as she contemplated.

“How are you?”, the question hovered barely above a whisper, gentle and full of sorrow.

His lips contorted into a grimace as he tried to smile.

“I”, he shook his head and fished for his glass, taking a sip.

“Not that good”, he finally answered.

She crossed her arms over her chest and nodded, a soft “Thank you”, directed at the waiter placing her cup of coffee in front of her.

“That’s fine”, the kid, at least that was what she assumed him to be – clearly not over 21 yet – answered.

Another gulp of water and she frowned.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you drink water”, she tried to tease, but it sounded hollow in her ears.

He sent her a grateful – bitter – smirk, “Do tell. But it’s better that way. I’ve been sweating whiskey for the past two days.”

Her chest hurt as her fingers clutched her cup tightly, warmth seeping through the china.

“Lucifer”, she said and somehow the name tasted wrong on her lips, “that’s not good.”

A slow nod, a swallow, eyes pleading for _something_. She didn’t know what.

“I know.”

They fell silent.

“So”, she said, trying to shift into something more professional, someone stronger, “Eve.”

“Yes”, he sighed, taking another sip, “she’s alive. Somehow she escaped my family’s clutches and hid, unsure of whether it was safe for her to reveal herself to me.”

“Where did she hide? And who hid her? I mean, it is a crime syndicate we are talking about, not some tiny wannabe gang.”

How could someone just disappear when they were wanted dead by something like _Caelum_? After all she had done her homework – its influence delved deeper than she ever had wanted to imagine.

“Somewhere in Russia – St. Petersburg, was it. Some rich oligarch helped her with finding a hideout. Apparently, he leads an organization opposed to Caelum.”

A rich oligarch… where on earth would she even get a connection like that?

“Has she said anything about who helped her escape? I mean, I have no idea of Eve’s background, but there had to be an accomplice, someone directing her towards the right crowd – this rich oligarch guy I mean.”

He shook his head, eyes roaming around the room.

“She told me that she doesn’t know who could’ve passed on her information, but a burner phone turned up on her desk in the office. She answered the call and they told her about the planned assassination attempt. She didn’t believe them, but when she went to drive home, the car was gone and a woman urged her to come with her. That’s how she ended up in Russia.”

Chloe’s brain fought to keep its neurons above the surface.

“Okay. And I take it said contact – the oligarch or whatever – told her it was safe to show herself?”

He nodded curtly, obviously grateful for the professionality behind her line of questioning.

“So she said. She took the first plane she could get to come here.”

“How would she even know how to find you? I mean, you did change your name and everything, so not even your family could find you.”

He hummed, brows furrowed, “I’d presume the one that hid her kept his tabs on me and passed on my information. I know Eve and if she’s one it is persistent. She would’ve nagged him until he gave her something.”

“Okay”, she took another sip of her coffee. It tasted bitter on her tongue and she really didn’t want to talk about Eve anymore. Trying to ignore the way her heart fluttered, she took a deep breath.

“And now?”, she hated how small she sounded.

He stared at her, eyes too dark, too bright as they swam.

“Chloe”, he leaned forward, carefully reaching out for her hand. His fingers shook with barely present tremors, “I love you. I -”

“Do you?”

The words were out of her mouth faster than she could think. Faster than she could regret. His eyes went wide, hurt as his lips gaped open.

“What”

It fell flat, hollow.

“Do you really?”, she eventually told his baffled expression, “or- or was I just some replacement, someone to warm your bed so –“

“Stop it”, he snapped, anger burning in every syllable, “How can you even _insinuate_ such a thing?”

Shame washed over her in too hot waves. She clenched her mouth shut, gaze brimming with tears as he regarded her darkly.

His eyes swam with defiance. “You need stop doing that. You need to start trusting me and stop jumping to conclusions, Chloe. If we want to continue this”, gestured, “ _us_ , I need you to trust me. And I’d very much like for this to continue.”

She nodded, throat too tight.

“I’m sorry”, she whispered, fingers wiping away those persistent tears as her cheeks burned.

“You know”, he leaned back, swallowing bitterly, “I get it. Daniel has hurt you. He betrayed you and it’s only reasonable to be sceptic, but I have never lied to you and I will never lie to you”, his voice morphed into something solemn, “So if I say I love you, I mean just that.”

Sucking in a deep breath she nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Why was she messing this up? Them up?

“I am so sorry, Lucifer”, she finally managed, leaning forward, “I know that you don’t, it’s just…”

She trailed off.

“It’s just what?”, he prodded gently, easing out of his rigid posture, meeting her halfway. His gaze was open like a door toward the sea’s glittering waves playing at the horizon.

“It _hurt_ ”, she finally managed, sniffing as another tear trailed along her cheek, “I know it’s not fair, because you – she was dead and now she’s back, but where”, she hated the way her voice spread thin, “where does that leave _me_?”

“ _Love_ ”, he whispered – tone so helpless, so eager to ease her pain - hand coming up to cup her cheek, “I desire you. And while I truly and deeply care about Eve, I desire _you_. And I want to be with _you_. Despite all that Eve and I went through, despite all that was taken from us, I want to be with _you._ ”

“I love you”, she managed to croak out and the smile that had his lips curling took her breath away.

“And I you, Detective”, she huffed out a watery laugh at the endearment.

Her fingers played with the rim of her cup in the way you make the thin walls of wine glasses sing.

“Have you told her?”, her words sounded hollow to her.

“About you?”, his ring shimmered in the small strip of light that fell into the room, “of course I did.”

“What did she say?” A beast crawled underneath her skin at the inkling of understanding.

“She, well”, he released a heavy breath, “she didn’t say much per se. But…”, he swallowed, “She wasn’t very happy about it. So that’s that.”

“I’m sorry”, she said and he tilted his head in confusion.

“What for?”

“If it wasn’t for me you could”, she swallowed, “be happy. Together.”

He sighed softly, “I thought we had established that what I want is to be happy with you. Besides, how does the song go that the urchin is listening to on repeat? _The past is in the past?_ ”


	24. Strawberry ice cream in Venice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer opens up about his past

Fatigue shone on his normally so exuberant features as she opened the door for him. Trixie had been put to bed a while ago and hazy, orange darkness had enveloped the streets. Wordlessly he made his way into her arms, hugging her to him. His head rested on hers as he breathed her in.

“Long day?”, she murmured and felt him swallow.

“Impossibly long.”

Detangling herself from him, she led him past the couch and towards the door, behind which the bedroom hid, into the four walls that they had deemed safe. With careful and caressing fingers she helped him undress, shrug out of his suit jacket and his shirt, helped him unbuckle his pants to pool into a heap of fabric on the floor. He slid under the covers she held up for him. His head came to rest on the same pillow hers was snuggled into. Cupping his cheek, Chloe gazed at him, looking for answers.

“You wanna talk about it?”

She whispered into the dusk of the room. She felt him shake his head against the palm of her hand, brown eyes nearly black and indiscernible in the dark. He regarded her for a moment before he nestled himself into the space next to her, arm coming around her waist to pull her close into his warmth. Silently they lay curled up into each other, no one sure of what to say. His nose was buried in her hair as he started, voice rough and deep in the quietness of the night.

“She had some… less pleasant things to say today.”

“Eve?”, she murmured into the crook of his neck, stomach still lurching at the mention of her name.

He nodded. His slow exhale tickled her ear.

“And I can’t help thinking …”

“She’s wrong”, she whispered fiercely into his skin as he trailed off, “whatever she said, she doesn’t know you anymore.”

“But she knew me back then.”

She pressed her lips to where his pulse had his veins trembling.

“Maybe she knew”, she gathered her strength, “Sam. But she doesn’t know you as Lucifer, you know?”

There was a pause that had her attentively listening to his heartbeat.

  
“ _Samael_.”

The name was so quiet that she had to strain her ears to grasp it.

“Samael?”, she repeated reverently as if gently pushing open a door to a whole new person, hidden in the dark.

Submerged under water and time the world zeroed out on his accelerating heartbeat, on his halting breath as something – a bond, a bridge, a _something_ – formed in the gaps left between their bodies – they weren’t many. It had gold blooming underneath her skin, pressed into his skin and flowing towards his frame, where her fingers rested below his scars.

“Chloe”, he hoarsely whispered and with a shove she had been pushed into the room of the whole new person and the lights flickered on.

“Who were you back then?”, she wanted to know, holding him tighter.

“No one good.”

It wasn’t an answer, yet nothing short of a warning; a silent, _Are you sure?_

“I’m sure”, she breathed and felt his palms, smooth and warm pressing her closer to him, “I’m sure.”

* * *

He swallowed a last time, settling her into his arms. Her delicate body felt right against his as he wound his arms around her, holding her tight as if that could protect her from the horrors of his past and him from her possible rejection. Very nearly a scoff escaped him. The soft fabric of her worn out T-shirt brushed his naked skin and he imagined this would be what heaven truly felt like.

“Very well”, he began, voice calm, even when he wasn’t as he stared at a spot above her window, “Once upon a time a boy met a girl. They fell in love and decided to fill a house full of children. Of course, as the catholic church always makes an appearance in such stories they named them after the numerous and magnificent angels of heaven. Uriel. Remiel. Michael. Raphael. Amenadiel. Samael. Loyal is what the bible painted them to be and loyal is how the children, soon pushed into becoming his puppets, his soldiers would serve their creator. Taking over the title from my grandfather, the man I once called Dad became _God_.”

His words caught at his tongue. Abuse and distance had drained away anything good, all the fond memories, that he wasn’t even sure of whether they existed in the first place, had been forced away by his hand, his orders. At least nearly all.

_Dad, look!_ , seven year old him had laughed into the wide room, heavy curtains billowing in the early summer wind, _look what I’ve learned!_

His small fingers had plucked a melody from the piano keys as he had beamed with pride. Warm hands, broad hands had settled on his slim shoulders, squeezed them proudly.

_It is wonderful, Samael._

Chloe’s lips on his skin caught him before he could fall and crash a second time.

“I grew up roaming through the forest that stretched from the edge of our garden across the hills. Michael and me, we”, blinking he pushed his brother aside, “we had quite the time there, playing fantastic games and waiting for Mum to collect us when the sun was about to set”, her arms tightened around his waist as he wavered at the mention of his mother, “I believe I was happy then. Then the Recruitment began. We – God’s sons – were trained into his soldiers, called in for duty. I was fifteen when I broke the first chap’s wrist for _Caelum_. For heaven. We all were pushed into something we didn’t want, some grew compliant, accepted and relished the thought of being an elite. Of being superior like true angels above human scum.”

This time he scoffed.

“Those who got hurt in the line of their work were shunned, because how _dare_ they fail? Mum protested, raged against Dad, but he never listened. The bastard would never listen. He sent her away one night. I woke up that morning, wanting to rant about how _God_ had forbidden me to touch the piano at the breakfast table, but she was gone. I asked where she was and no one answered. A theme in my life”, he mused, “So I rebelled and raged for her. I was lucky I was once Dad’s favourite. My rebellious streak aside, I finished the Recruitment and became God’s enforcer, his wrath. I was eighteen at the time. I hated it. I hated every bloody second of it. I had started drinking a while ago back then and moved on to harder stuff. What had begun with codeine and Purple Lean in my youth transformed into ecstasy to forget and cocaine to drown out the guilt. Finally heroin to stop bloody feeling. To stop everything that was raging on in my head, to stop it all from _hurting_.”

“Lucifer”, she whispered and his name from her lips felt like benediction as she detangled herself from his embrace and his stomach lurched as he scrambled. This was it. This was where she drew the line and left. He knew. That’s what he would’ve done if he were her.

She sat up and rocked back onto her heels, took his face into her hands and told him she was _proud._ How on earth could she be proud of him? Of the person who ruined everything he touched? The man that had broken bones and lives apart, who had not only once had his threats come true?

“I am so _proud_ of who you have become”, she said, her eyes that remined him of the sky and the ocean and everything free begged him to believe her. He tried. He bloody well would try. She kissed him then, unbearably gentle and loving and yes – he decided – this was his personal slice of paradise.

When they parted for air – staring at each other, because he loved her; he truly did – they settled back into their embrace, enveloped by each other’s limbs waiting for their breath to calm.

“I met Eve when I was 29 “, he continued, voice quiet, “a week after we got together, I overdosed. She found me and called an ambulance. She saved me. In more ways than that. She did the one thing that no one ever had done for me. She stayed. She told me she’d sit this out with me. That she’d support me during rehab and she did. She was there when I thrashed and whined, she was there when I raged and she stood right in front of that sodding center when I was released. Made her way towards me with a bright grin on her lips and tugged me down the stairs. At the end of them my”, he broke as he blinked away his tears, “my Mum waited for me and I swear that was the first time in more than ten years that I truly felt happy, elated even.”

Chloe kissed the spot behind his ear, peppered them along his jaw, not minding the stubble as her hands shook against his back. He tightened his grip. It was okay. All of this was okay as long as they held onto each other, hidden by the night. He felt lighter than he had in years because he hadn’t even allowed the Doctor that far in.

“I decided I had enough. I rebelled. I went against Dad – because how could this man ever be even close to a god? – I wanted out. He was lenient. Harsh, but lenient nevertheless. It went on for a few years and well, then they found out about Eve.”

“It’s okay”, she said as he struggled, fingers clenching in her shirt, breathing her in. It hadn’t been real. Wasn’t real. She was okay. She was alive. She was –

* * *

His breath sounded harsh in her ears as he desperately tried to gather enough oxygen, grip trembling against her body.

“It’s okay”, she soothed, “Breathe, Lucifer. It’s okay. She’s okay.”

He nodded frantically into her hair. Her hand found his chest, rested right above his heart. It thundered against her touch.

“In through the nose, Lucifer”, she tried her best to sound encouraging, even when she wanted nothing more but cry and scream at who ever had let all this happen. He deserved better. He deserved so much better than to shake through a panic attack in her arms, torn between a woman who had given him everything back then and his girlfriend that had finally enabled him to love again.

“That’s it”, she praised him, “now release it slowly, okay?”

He opened his mouth and seemed to try to form words.

“Again, please.”

“ _E_ … _eve_ ”, he choked, gagged. She pulled back, ignoring the sting in her chest because this was really not about her. His eyes stared at her glassy and black.

“Yes”, she said, “Just breathe. She is okay. Eve is okay, love. It’s okay. Just breathe. You’re doing amazing.”

Her hand scrambled for his phone as she awkwardly bent around his cramping form. She stretched and fumbled and finally the sleek material was in her reach. Faster than she could have ever imagined she had unlocked and called her, putting her on speakerphone as it rang.

“Breathe, Lucifer”, she said as he cried and struggled for air, his body shaking against hers, “She’s okay. You are okay.”

Her fingers carded through his hair in rhythmic, soothing circles.

“ _Sam? Sorry, Lucifer?”_ , she could have laughed in relief at the soft, cheerful voice, tainted by sleep.

“Eve”, Chloe blurted out, doing her best to stay in control, “Eve talk to him, okay? Just talk to him, he’s not – not good.”

“ _Are you-“,_ she hesitated, “ _Chloe, right?”_

“Yes. That’s me. I’m… Lucifer needs you right now. He needs to hear your voice, he’s not good. _Please_.”

She was nothing short of begging as her heart broke and gratefulness seeped deep into her bones as the other woman complied, not asking for more. Chloe transferred the phone onto the pillow with them.

“ _Hey there, Luce_. _I’m okay. Alright? I am here on the line with you and I am not going anywhere.”_

“Eve?”, he managed and god, he sounded so lost.

“Yes, that’s her, love”, Chloe kissed his forehead, leaning into his space.

“ _I’m okay. I’m super tired but okay. Nearly as tired as I was when we spent the whole night awake to watch all the Harry Potter films, remember?”_

Paralyzed he listened, fingers clutching Chloe’s wrist to his chest.

_“I had to get to the office later that day and boy, I nearly fell asleep with my head in my lunch. That would have been quite the sight, right?”_

She laughed then, a sweet laugh like cherries on long summer days in her youth. Tears slipped underneath her palm as he released a shuddering breath.

“ _I still haven’t been to Venice. It’s a shame really, but we said we wanted to do that together, so we’ll have to go one day!”_

Chloe’s grip tightened possessively in his hair as her chest constricted. He wanted her. He wanted to be with her. Not Eve. He had told her so repeatedly. He had opened up to her about who he had been, about Sam, because he _wanted_ her to know all of him.

_“Your Mum said the gelato is amazing, remember? We would sit in one of the lovely cafés at the Piazza San Marco and you would roll your eyes at me while you sip your espresso, because I tend to order the biggest sundae I can find and never finish it.”_

A watery laugh shook his frame.

“As long as it has strawberry ice cream in it”, he croaked and Eve laughed.

Relief and pain coursed through her being, wrestling each other to the ground for tears to escape her eyes, that trailed in hot and jealous rivulets down her skin. The hand that lay against his skin flexed by its own accord and she took in a slow breath through her nose to compose herself. But dammit. It _hurt._ Her ears didn’t hear what either of them were saying, but Lucifer’s heaving chest had slowed, while his thumb drew slow circles onto the back of her hand. She didn’t know how long they stayed like this, intertwined and hurting and Eve’s voice sounding soothing and to her nearly tauntingly through the four walls that they had deemed safe.

_He’s worth it,_ Chloe chanted inside her mind to drown out the gnawing doubt, the venomous jealously as he gazed up at her with grateful eyes, _he’s worth it. He’s worth this._


	25. Stumbling conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eve and Chloe have a conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning peeps! 
> 
> A new chapter for you guys! 
> 
> A special thanks goes out to my Beta reader [ kitlyn_221B ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitlyn_221B/pseuds/kitlyn_221B), which I am having wonderful and endless conversations about Lucifer with - I love it! 
> 
> I just wanted to say that I appreciate every single read, kudos and bookmark and of course comment on this story - it might not seem this way, but it means the world to me and it matters. You matter. I've been carrying this story around for a while and it's just awesome to see what it has become!   
> The second to last chapter on this story! The sequel is coming out soon! 
> 
> Lots of love and enjoy peeps!
> 
> ESH

He tried his best, she could tell and she loved him all the more for it. With impromptu visits whenever it was possible, breakfast in bed at 6 am and dinners in little intimate restaurants that he knew the owner of. With looking after Trixie and long Monopoly game nights. He put her first and it had her heart singing with joy, until he told her – with a tentative smile on his lips – that Eve wanted to meet her. Her heart had nearly choked at the thought – because thanks, but no thanks. But then he had looked at her with those hopeful eyes of his and she had agreed, _why_ she didn’t quite know herself. But she had nodded, with an apprehensive smile and he had regarded her with that much relief that she nearly melted into a puddle right there.

They had agreed to met in Y’s Gawen – because somehow the bar had turned into a well of mind altering and eye-opening revelations. . The mellow lights did little to quench her nerves and resolve the knot that her innards had tangled into. She had promised him, she told herself as she made her way into the room, doing her best to school her face into a calm expression and avoid an eventual tumble down the stairs. She had promised him.

A sigh escaped her at the sight of Maze’s tight leather ensemble, grateful to have at least a few minutes with someone who was – well – not Eve. The dark brows of the bartender lifted as her eyes fell on her and by the time she had leaned against the counter top a glistening bottle of beer waited for her.

“You’re the best Maze”, she told her in place of a thanks, but it had the woman’s lips tugging into a grin, revealing rows of gleaming white teeth, like a shark ready to feast.

“Hell yeah, I am.”, she winked at her, eyeliner as acute as on the night she’d met her.

“It would seem so.”

The liquid ran bitter and heady along her tongue and cooled her dry throat.

Maze shook her head, eyes squinting as if she was trying to see something she couldn’t quite make out yet.

“Something’s off about that one, I’ll tell ya.”

“You think so?”

“Most dead people that came back to life are. Even if only metaphorically”, she shook her head, continuing under her breath, “It just sucks when they do that.”

Frowning she ignored the last remark. A hum escaped her at the dread that rose inside her again. She had promised him.

“But anyway”, she set a few glasses, clinking and bustling like the woman carrying them, “rather you than her, Decker. I can take care of her if she’s getting a problem.”

A snort escaped her, “I am good thanks.”

The slight maniac glee in her friend’s eyes sent a shudder down her spine. She’d rather not know what that meant.

“I mean”, Maze hesitated before she turned to go, “I don’t do that anymore. For you I would, Decker.”

With that and a curt nod – as if she’s not quite sure that was everything she had wanted to express – she eventually disappeared to serve the only table for the afternoon. Sipping at her drink Chloe stared at the door, seeing nothing but blurring silhouettes as her eyes watered.

Creaking the door swung open, cheerfully announcing the presence of an equally joyful woman. Lips painted in deep red caught Chloe’s gaze first, not only because of the bright smile stretching her mouth open but also because they matched perfectly with the flowing top that flared around her arms. Swallowing the last bit of bitter taste – oh, she wished she could – she got up and waved weakly as doe eyes widened excitedly. She slipped out of her seat and steeled her spine at the rhythmic clicking of Eve’s stilettos coming closer.

“Hey.”

“Hi, Chloe!”

A little awkward gesturing later, they had taken their seats opposite each other. Chloe desperately wished for another beer to occupy herself with as they remained silent.

“So”, Eve finally broke the vail of quiet they had constructed, “How do _you_ know him?”

The question rested in the air in front of them, flat and tasteless and the blonde shook her head. This was ridiculous. They were adults for heaven’s sake.

“Do you wanna get out of here?”, she asked, “We could go for a walk, because I could really do without the stuffy”, she made a gesture to the room, “atmosphere.”

The sigh of relief and the honest smile that followed were answer enough. She held open the door for Eve as she strode through it, confident as ever. The fresh air allowed her to finally relax somewhat, even if she preferred the scent of whiskey over the smell of piss and petrol. They should make a fragrance out of it. _Piss and petrol_ had a ring to it.

“Where to?”

Expectant the brown eyes regarded her, with a playfulness that didn’t quite sit right for a woman hiding for the past five years. The small frown that formed on her forehead decided to stay there as she spoke.

“A park? There’s one not far from here.”

Eve nodded at the offer and reminded her of an excited golden retriever at best. A small smile danced across her lips as she gestured along the street.

“New York is so big! Isn’t it amazing?”

Her head thrown into her neck the woman stared up the houses and Chloe couldn’t help but chuckle.

“The skyscrapers are in Manhattan though”, she remarked.

“I know, I know, but I mean – not that St. Petersburg isn’t huge in itself, but well, aside from some beautiful facades facing street side there’s not a lot more to it. If you’re not living in the center of the city that is. Smells the same though.”

“St. Petersburg?”

The inkling shimmer of suspicion crept into her unconscious. Heavy rings adorning pale, slender fingers. Aristocratic features, long and sharp. Leia Michaelnova had been from there too. But it was a big city. Her mother’s colleague did live in New York – in Manhattan of course, because where else would a woman of B-rated movies live? – and not once had she bumped into her. It was probably just a coincidence.

“They hid me there”, Eve said.

“They who?”

The question lay heavy on her tongue as she repeated it – to Eve instead of Lucifer this time – softer, less demanding.

“Some Russian dude, a rich oligarch”, her gaze roved along the street, “I was never allowed to know his name. Not that I didn’t try to figure it out.”

“I understand”, Chloe nodded, “how did they keep you there?”

They waited patiently to cross the street, strangers bumping into them only for Chloe to send a death stare after them, that had Eve laughing.

“Well, if someone saves you from an attempt on your life and tells you it is not safe for you to leave, because you’d be probably hunted down until they finally get you, you listen.”

Her gaze darkened as did her voice, bitter sarcasm clung to her words like tar. She fell silent as they wove through the passersby, strangers that all had lives of their own, problems of their own. More complex stories than anyone could ever believe them to be. It was impossible to know all of the little details. Sometimes Chloe wished she could. Sometimes she longed to be an omniscient being, knowing each and all of them by name, being able to help and bring them peace. She wondered what it was like. What it was like to know everything at once. _God._ She shook her head as she scoffed.

_The man I once called Dad became God._

“I always wondered how he was, you know?”, the woman told her, looking up at her. The wind played with waves of coal and she couldn’t deny that she was beautiful.

She didn’t need to ask who _he_ was.

“I would lay there and pray to him, try to somehow tell him that I was alright. I yearned for the day they’d tell me it was safe to leave. Safe to tell him I was okay. I jumped on the first plane that I got and came over after I got my Visa. I”, Chloe had to strain her ears to hear her over the noise of the city, “I never wanted any of this to happen.”

At a loss of what to say she nodded. An “I know” seemed shallow, an “I understand” dishonest. Instead she tried her best to feature an empathic expression, because it was at least something.

“Over here”, she murmured and maneuvered them through the small entrance of the park.

“It’s sweet”, the other woman smiled at the few trees and park benches. A few old bills and empty packs of gum littering the floor.

Of course, it was _sweet._ If Eve would be a word, she would be _sweet._ While she had gotten bitter apparently.

“Mhm”, she made vaguely while she sunk onto one of the benches, the tree’s branches just sparing enough shade for the sun not to blind her. The two of them sat – again. Was it that what got the conversation halting? Or was it just that the two of them weren’t compatible?

“Thank you, Eve”, she broke the calmness, “for what you did for him the other night.”

She didn’t dare look at the other woman, but instead clasped her hands in her lap.

“And for what you did for him before all of this. I cannot express how grateful I am that he had someone like you to get him through all of the crap he was dealing with. He needed that and he deserved that. So, thank you.”

“He truly did. And it’s well - I didn’t really think about it back then, you know? I just saw him hurting and I wanted to help.”

“Thank you”, it was only now that she managed to turn towards her, “I truly mean it.”

The woman hummed softly, before she grinned at Chloe, “But it’s a good thing I am back then.”

The sound of approval escaped her before she could think about it. Her brows furrowed into a question mark.

“I mean”, she brushed back her dark curls, lips painted red lifting into a reassuring smile, “Don’t get me wrong here Chloe, I am sure you are amazing and everything, but…”

The faint edge of dismissal had her senses swimming. Her skin pricked with anger.

“But what?”

Her sharp tone didn’t bother her at all as she shrugged.

“Sam and I-”

“His name is Lucifer.”

Annoyance crept along her veins, her fingers tightening in her lap.

“Sorry. Luce and I, well. We’ve been through so much and I just think that now, now finally after all that we’ve had to endure we have finally our chance to be happy together. I just”, she let out a laugh, hiding her mouth beneath her folded hands. _Sweet_ , “I can’t believe that it is finally happening.”

Regaining her sense of control at the painful something that wreaked havoc inside her, bursting into jealous, licking flames. The muscles of her jaw set tightly as she ground her teeth together.

“Eve, you cannot do this to him, to us”, she finally managed to say, calm and hard.

Doe eyes regarded her with surprise. “What do you mean?”

“You cannot walk in here, back into his life five years after you’ve been declared dead and just expect that nothing has changed! You cannot come back after five years and just expect to grab what you want when you want it. This is not how it works. Can’t you _see_ what this is doing to him?”

“But…surely you must know Luce _loves_ me?”

She nearly flinched at her question. Because she _did_ know.

“Yes, I am aware”, she breathed, trying her best to remain collected, “I know he does and it’s actually great that he does, but he has finally allowed himself to _move on_ before you came back. Lucifer and I are in a relationship and even if you might not like to hear it, it is happening.”

_Apparently he loves me more,_ she didn’t add.

“But-“

She had rendered Eve speechless. Her delicate features scrunched together as she lost herself in thought. The few glances Chloe threw her revealed glassy eyes that reminded her of the time Trixie had first learned that not only bees on the sidewalk died one day. They sat in companionable silence, the hitch in the other woman’s breath didn’t escape her. Her heart strings sung a haunting melody full of empathy.

Biting her lips she considered what to say. She didn’t particularly like Eve, but she couldn’t imagine what this had to feel like to her.

“Look”, she started, softly this time, the same voice she used on the victim’ families during interrogation, “I understand that this is not what you expected, that you still love him, that you’ve waited years for a wonderful reunion. I understand”, she told her pale face and eyes brimming with tears, “and I am sorry. But I”, she bit at her lip, nodding to herself, “I love him. A lot. After my divorce I didn’t expect to ever trust someone so”, her voice trembled and she breathed out a sigh, “so implicitly. And my daughter – my daughter adores him, even if he would never admit it.”

“Never”, a laugh and a sniff fell into each other, tangled.

“I am sorry, Eve.”

A harsh huff left her, teeth tugging at her lipstick.

“I know but… it just – it’s not fair. We didn’t even get to say goodbye and well. Now that I was finally back I thought -”

“It’s really not fair. It never is.”

Eve nodded, staring ahead as she swallowed. They sat next to each other, silently for a while, before conversation began stutteringly, fragments that got longer and more fluid as it continued flowing.

“Oh, dearie me”, she laughed as Chloe told her about how Trixie had crashed into Lucifer, “but at least he didn’t throw her doll and then told her to fetch.”

A snort of laughter bubbled across her lips as she imagined Lucifer doing that, because he

would _actually_ do that like the 6 foot 3 figure of oblivion that he was.

“Really?”, she giggled anyway.

“Yeah. Really. He’s just a big clueless dork. Amongst other things”, she added.

She bobbed her head with a grin as she pulled out her phone. Message after message piled up onto each other, between the worried texts a few cat videos as evidence of his boredom.

“We should get back”, she chuckled, “I think he is trying to blow my phone up.”

Eve shook her head in exasperation, “Yeah, he acquired that over the years. Believe it or not there were times where he would be so patient at the beginning.”

“I don’t think that patience is in Lucifer’s realm of understanding”, Chloe mused as she stretched her legs and got up. She really should start jogging again.

They wandered back to Y’s Gawen, each of them lost in their own little bubble and she couldn’t help but think that maybe it wasn’t that bad. Maybe this didn’t have to end in drama.

The familiar atmosphere dipped in whiskey and amber lights enveloped them as they made their way inside. A lanky figure looked up at the telltale ring of the bell and his features lit up.

“There you are! I thought I might have to organize a search party for you.”

Eve grinned at him as he crossed the room with those ridiculously long legs of his. Chloe held her breath as he halted next to her, shifting from one foot to the other as he stared at her with a slight frown, that he always sported when he was considering something. Trying to gauge what he was thinking she looked up to him, cocking her head. His eyes flickered to her lips as he shuffled closer. Her fingers shot out to rest on his forearm to tell him that it was alright if he didn’t, that she understood the way his gaze flicked from her to Eve and back, filled with apprehension. He squinted for a split second, before huffing out a breath that sounded suspiciously like “ _bloody hell”._ Swiftly he bowed down and met her with a slow kiss, an _I’m glad you’re here_ kiss. Raising onto her tiptoes, stretching towards him as she melted against his lips that coaxed hers, warm and welcoming. Her heart skipped rope in her chest with a bright smirk on its face as they separated.

“Hello, detective”, he murmured, a gentle grin brightening his features into an affectionate expression.

“Hey, you.”

Her smile was no less radiant as her fingers slipped between his, small and delicate in his huge hands, cold metal of his ring sliding against her skin.

“Hey, Eve”, he smiled fondly, “How was your little detour?”

_How have you not ended up killing each other?_ , was what he probably wanted to know.

“Uhm”, dark eyes flitted to Chloe, only flickering down to their joined hands, before she answered, “It was nice, very”, she hesitated for a split second, “revelatory, but nice nevertheless.“

“Oh, do tell?”

Even though his remark had been meant to be curious, it reminded her of dreading legs shuffling along the concrete.

“Mhm”, she made, “But we were at this sweet little park two streets from here. It was really cute. With a little playground on it and those children were so cute, like -“

Lucifer paled a little next to her as his fingers clenched, something sorry and far away visiting his eyes. He shook himself out of it in an instant and shuddered exaggeratedly.

“Vile, sticky creatures.”

“You like Trixie”, Chloe deadpanned with a roll of her eyes.

“Yes, well”, he reconsidered, “the urchin is alright. Strikes a mean deal and has definitely inherited the minxy genes from you rather than from the Douche. Thankfully.”

A mischievous smile played with the corners of her lips as she whispered towards the woman tugging at the sleeves of her flowy top, “She has wrapped him around her little finger.”

“I bet”, she chuckled, while Lucifer bristled indignantly, “I am most certainly _not_! This is preposterous!”

“That’s what he said”, Chloe mused, shoving his shoulder with hers only to receive a dark look of his. The smirk that followed his pout had concern rising in her chest as he leaned down to whisper into the shell of her ear.

“ _I cannot wait until you, my dear detective”_ , he purred, “ _are wrapped around my fingers tonight.”_


	26. At night when hearts tangle up their limbs...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deckerstar and Trixie fluff and the ending of the first part of this story XD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey peeps!
> 
> I wish you a lovely morning! This is the last chapter of Eden's playground, but fret not - I will upload the first chapter of the sequel "Untangling the knots" over the course of the day. 
> 
> I just wanna say thank you for those of you who have followed Lucifer and Chloe's story so far and who have left comments and thoughts and ideas, those who have left kudos and bookmarked this story and of course all of you who have read this so far! 
> 
> (don't mind the title... I didn't know what to call this chapter XD)
> 
> I'll let you get to it!
> 
> lots of love,  
> Emmi

Trixie had been frowning at her when she had come home from work late – again. Balancing working longer hours, motherhood and a relationship was more difficult than she had anticipated. Guilt ate at her as she collapsed on her couch after ushering Trixie into the shower. Sometimes Chloe believed that she’d rather stay dirty if it came down to it. Her phone buzzed with another incoming message and somehow she dreaded it being from Lucifer. He had been beyond excited as she had agreed to come over, forgetting that her monkey’s sleep over was scheduled for next week instead of this. Not having had the time to see him during the last two weeks had made her oblivious to that particular detail.

Work had had her mind busy enough, which she’d be eternally grateful for, especially as Lucifer had been out with Eve, hunting for apartments. Currently she stayed at a friend’s place, which had been looking for a roommate for the time being but wanted to leave New York at the end of her semester. Trying to get a hold of some dirtbag had proven as perfect distraction to not think about the two of them together. Even though Eve and her had had a heart to heart talk about their situation and Lucifer had made his position clear, something foul clawed its way along her insides. And dammit, it was hard not to like Eve. Sweet and joyful and innocent in a way that Chloe would never be again.

Her phone buzzed again.

_When can I expect my favourite Detective?_

She felt like crying – again – as she swallowed and stared at her screen. Eventually giving herself a push, she answered.

**I am so sorry, but I have Trixie tonight. I mixed up the weeks… I am sorry, Lucifer.**

Releasing a tense breath, she let her hands envelop her face, hiding her tired eyes.

_Oh. This simply won’t do. Then just bring the urchin with you!_

**You have no place where she could sleep and she’s just gotten into the shower and I really don’t want to drag her through the subway again.**

**I’m sorry** , she added just to be sure.

His bubble blinked hastily as if it was crucial for Chloe to stay on the line. So, she waited, water rushing in the background as her munchkin hummed the tones of Moana’s _How far I’ll go._ She just loved her so much that she feared her heart would burst at the seams.

_I can send Maze over with the car to pick you up and as for sleeping facilities, surely my bed is big enough to accommodate the two of you. I can sleep at the couch, that’s no problem_

_Or – if you agree to act as a protective wall between me and your sticky offspring – I’ll squeeze in too. I figure my garments haven’t been safe from urchin-drool for a while now._

Her tired body longed for his silky sheets and his warmth curled around her and she thought she might spontaneously combust at his consideration of her and Trixie’s needs.

**I don’t know, Lucifer. That’s a lot of effort just for us to see each other.**

Truth was she was tired and really couldn’t be bothered. It was already past bedtime, even if it was the beginning of the weekend. The bar would be overflowing with people and subtle bass would be thrumming heavily shaking the flat’s floor ever so slightly as if to rock her to sleep.

_Relax, love. You have to do nothing more than to grab a few of your and the spawn’s things, get into the car and out of the car and into bed._

_Besides, I really miss you._

A sigh escaped her and she knew that her defenses were beginning to crumble.

**Alright. But I’ll ask Trix what she wants, if she wants to stay at home, we will do that.**

_Of course, detective._

A short pause.

_I’ll tell Maze to get ready._

Shaking her head in exasperation she put the phone aside and got up only to bump into her monkey, wrapped into one of their huge towels.

“Hey there, munchkin”, she chuckled as she steadied her child.

“I’m a sea monster”, she whispered back, drawing the fabric further over her head and heavens, how could one child be that adorable?

“Oh, have mercy, fierce monster.”

She held her palms up in surrender, while she kneeled down next to her, wanting nothing more than to hold her tight and not let go.

“Nah, I am a nice monster”, her tooth gap had her ‘s’ lisping, “I’ll spare your life.”

“Too kind, oh mighty monster. You tired yet?”

“Nope”, Trixie yawned into her towel as Chloe drew her into her arms, hugging her tight to her. Her heart sung in satisfaction as she nestled into the crook of her neck.

“You know that I love you very much, don’t you Monkey?”

A nod as she nuzzled against her skin.

“And that I’ll never make you do something that you really, really don’t want? Like really not want, not like brushing your teeth”, she added with a gentle chuckle.

“I know, Mommy.”

“Good”, she murmured, drawing circles onto her back, before pulling away, “So, I want you to be super honest with me, okay?”

She waited for another nod and understanding in her features.

“Lucifer asked us whether we want to come over tonight. Maze – you know Maze?”

“Duh”, she made.

“Right”, a small laugh escaped her, “Maze would get us with the car and we would sleep in his bed? Is that okay with you? Or do you want to stay at home and just snuggle in front of the TV? Both is fine.”

Her daughter considered, looking adorable with the towel burying her small form as it hung from her head.

“I reaaally like Maze”, she began, “and”, her eyes lit up, “Does that mean I can sleep in bed with you?”

“Mhm, that’s what it means.”

The beam on her small face was answer enough.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”, her small head bobbed enthusiastically, ”So cool!”

“Okay, then get Miss Alien and I’ll pack your clothes and something for me and then we wait for Maze. Now get dressed, Monkey.”

With that her daughter darted to her room, towel billowing like a superhero’s cape behind her as she did so.

Merely twenty minutes later they got collected by the woman that could as well have been a demon, with dark eyes and skin, a sharp smirk on her lips. The fist bump that Trixie received took Chloe by surprise as did Maze’s readiness to listen to her ramble on about her day and how cool the car was and that she could go on a real adventure on the weekend, alternating between babbling and staring out of the car’s window that reflected the gleaming lights of the city in them. A gentle smile curled Chloe’s lips as she murmured a quiet _thanks_. With all the bluntness and sharp remarks the woman had grown on her.

“No big deal, Decker”, she answered, checking the small child in the back through the rearview mirror, “Besides, Lucifer has been chewing my ear off about you. It’s disgusting and pathetic”, she shuddered, “Emotions.”

The blonde snorted, “Horrifying, I know.”

Five minutes later, Trixie had pressed her forehead against the windowpane. In seven she had fallen fast asleep. As they arrived in front of Y’s Gawen, Maze slipped her the key and instead of letting Chloe carry her daughter, the bartender had scooped the little girl up into her arms without even breaking into sweat, throwing her a death stare that told her as much as, _Tell someone about this and you’re dead._

Chloe was one hundred percent sure they weren’t allowed to park the car where it was parked but didn’t comment on it as they made their way through the side entrance that belonged to the staircase of the building. Swiftly stomping up the stairs, they came to a halt in front of Lucifer’s apartment.

“Let me take her inside”, she whispered softly.

Maze frowned at her, grip unconsciously tightening around her daughter, before she somehow lifted her into Chloe’s open arms. Nodding, she waved her goodbye, the leather of her jacket making no sound as it was soft and smooth, before she turned to go.

“Thanks, Maze”, she raised her voice barely above a whisper as the latter paused at the top of the stairs, “for everything.”

“Don’t mention it, Decker. Night.”

With that she had disappeared into the shadows like a ghost swallowed by the darkness. Trixie was slowly getting heavy in her arms – when had she transformed from her little baby into a kid that big? – as she fumbled with the keys and finally pushed open the door. She slid into it, flicking on the light with her shoulder. Her daughter made a protesting noise and buried her face further into her arms.

“Shh”, Chloe murmured as she made her way through the flat, only stripes of light illuminating the living area in the dusk. Faint silhouettes of furniture raised like mountains in the room. Step by step she approached the bedroom, door clumsily pushed open. The bed stretched dark and invitingly as ever in front of her, in the sparing light she could make out a heap of old bedding curled up in a corner on the floor as if hurriedly thrown there. She shook her head with a soft smile on her lips. This unbelievable, loveable man.

She sat down her daughter on the soft mattress, her arms already aching, before taking her shoes off to let them fall down at the edge of the bed. Lifting the covers, she maneuvered her child to lay on the pillows, carefully tucking the blanket up to her chin. A loving hand brushed over her dark hair, tickling her fingertips. She pressed a kiss onto the top of her head.

“Sleep tight, Monkey.”

She pulled back and got up. Eventually standing in front of the leather couch she sighed and let herself sink down onto it, taking off her boots. A part of her wanted to wait for his shift to end, but the exhaustion of the day caught up with her.

A quick shower later she had pulled on her pajama – a T-shirt and shorts – and slid under the covers to pull her monkey tight into her embrace. The latter turned and sighed, snuggling into her. A smile stole its way onto Chloe’s lips. In two hours at the latest she would wake with a foot in her face or other sensitive places. Lulled in by the buzz of the bar underneath them, that only spoke now as that they lay in silence, and her daughter’s breathing she drifted off into sleep’s arms.

* * *

While music still thrummed underneath his skin and his limbs brimmed with energy, his heart wanted nothing more than to curl up next to Chloe and sleep. The last two weeks without her had been nothing short of boring and tasteless. Apartment shopping with Eve, as enjoyable as it had been to be in her presence again, had gnawed at his nerves at the dropped hints of her devotion and little longing glances that she gave him that had his chest hurting with guilt and empathy.

“Patrick, I’m heading up now”, he called over his shoulder. His voice sounded through the nearly empty bar. Only a few drunk and lost souls hung at the bar or where they had nearly fallen asleep on their table.

“Do that! Night, man!”

“Sleep tight”, he crooned with a grin before he hasted towards the exit.

He was sure he reeked of smoke and alcohol as he took two steps at once, heading up to his flat. He slid through the door, the keys jingled too loudly in the darkness and he carefully avoided stumbling over the shoes that stood in perfect pairs next to his. Even in the lack of light he could make out the glitter on the urchin’s sneakers. An amused snort escaped him as he toed out of his own slippers, happily wiggling his toes as they finally had enough room to move. Blindly he made his way through the apartment, unbuttoning the waist coat only for his fingers to search for the hanger that he had flung somewhere onto the couch before he had left for his shift.

“Bloody hell”, he murmured, “where’s the little bugger?” 

Groaning he flicked on the lamp somewhere to his left. He squinted as light angrily flooded the room. A little smirk danced across his lips at the few casefiles on his counter, unopened and neatly stacked as if prepared but never touched. Next to them lay his missing hanger.

“Right”, he whispered under his breath, making sure the piece of clothing found its rightful place to rest without being posed to any risk of creasing. Stretching his arms above his head, he sighed as his gaze fell on the little gap of his bedroom door. Quietly in order not to wake the two of them, he crossed the room, slowly pulling open the door. The stripe of dim light fell onto two figures curled up into each other and his heart paused as if in reverence. His shoulder thumped against the door frame as did the side of his head. Chloe’s body curled around her daughter that had begun to stretch her limbs into all four directions, nose scrunched up as if in thought and features otherwise relaxed. His partner’s hair had broken loose from her ponytail, spreading onto his pillows like vines climbed up a wall. The smile that spread over his lips filled his chest to the brim with an overwhelming warmth. This was _his._ And as far as he was concerned, he wouldn’t let them go, no. He would keep them safe, Dad be damned. He would not allow for them to come to harm, he would make sure of it.

He shook himself out of his trance and headed to the bathroom to get himself ready for bed. Smoke and sweat washed off of him, he put on boxers and a shirt and hurried back to bed to sink down next to Chloe. Gently he pulled her into his arms, a content sigh escaping him as she hummed and pressed herself further into his embrace.

“Goodnight, love”, he whispered into her hair, pressing a soft kiss to where his lips had rested.

“Night”, she mumbled happily, further in the territory of sleep than that of consciousness. Even if the urchin’s hand had somehow found its way into his face over the course of the night, he wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.

* * *

They got shaken awake tangled into each other, Trixie excitedly bouncing up and down at the side of the bed, asking what they would do today. Lucifer had buried his face in her hair with a whine, begging her to stop the hell spawn’s torture and let him sleep. Chloe had snorted at that and extracted herself out of his grip, having him lament even more. Finally being able to escape the vice of his arms she slipped out of bed in order to get some breakfast ready. A few hours later Trixie was engrossed in a documentary about the wild animals of the Sahara, while Chloe bowed over crime scene pictures. A typical Saturday morning. The only thing missing was the disgruntled man that just padded into the room, hair mussed from sleep and enveloped her from behind, mumbling something into the crook of her neck as she laughed.

“What did you say?”

“Hold still”, he yawned, nuzzling into her skin.

“Coffee?”, she asked instead of complying and slipped out of the barstool.

He grumbled with a nod as she disentangled herself from his embrace as he plopped down onto the seat she had occupied before.

“What was that?”, she teased with a smirk as she filled a cup for him. He rolled his eyes with another yawn and leaned forward towards her. Unable to escape his magnetic pull she shuffled closer into his orbit. The counter digging into his stomach he pressed a kiss to her lips, his mouth warm against hers and had her melting.

“Thank you”, he said smugly, voice rough from sleep as he stole the cup from her slack grip. He rewarded her with another quick peck as she gaped at him.

“Lucifer”, she admonished with a slight glare, but he only leaned back with a Cheshire cat grin and winked at her before he sipped from his coffee. She shook her head with a chuckle and got herself her own refill. They drank in companionable silence, fingers intertwined.

“What do we want to do today?”, she finally asked with a content sigh.

“No detective work today?”, he perked up with a hopeful and yet teasing glint in his brown eyes.

“A little detective paperwork in the afternoon”, she sent him an apologetic smile, “but before that I am all yours.”

“We could go get chocolate cake!”, Trixie piped up from her place on the couch, vibrating with enthusiasm.

“Brunch!”, Lucifer’s face lit up as he turned to her daughter, “Urchin, you are a genius!”

The latter giggled excitedly and jumped up.

“Please, Mom?”

Shaking her head at them she grinned, “Alright then, get ready, Monkey. I’ll see what I can find.”

Only half an hour later – Chloe was sure she had never decided that quickly on where to eat – all three of them were dressed and ready. Well, nearly all of them.

“Lucifer! Come on! We’re all hungry”, exasperation palpable in her words.

“You can’t rush perfection, Detective!”, his muffled voice sounded from the bathroom, “those sodding curls need to be contained!”

She rubbed the bridge of her nose, squinting at the ceiling, while Trixie giggled beside her.

“You look fine, love!”, she shouted back, shrugging into her jacket and stowed her purse and off duty Glock into her pockets. She adored her leather jackets for the size of their pockets, she really did as they were a rarity in women’s clothing.

“I beg your pardon?”, he protested, “I look more than just fine, dar- Detective!”

“You look amazing, happy?”, she said absentmindedly.

“Don’t I ever?”, he grinned at her as he eventually appeared in front of them.

“Mhm”, she patted his chest with an eyeroll, even though she couldn’t deny that he wasn’t wrong as he righted the cufflinks of his dark red dress shirt and smoothed the planes of his black suit jacket, before he bowed down to grab his shoes. He sat down next to Trixie, scrunching his nose at her pink sneakers.

“Those are dreadful, urchin”, he declared, tying his laces.

“I like them”, she stuck out her tongue at him,” they have glitter on them.”

“Yes, that is the problem”, he sighed dramatically, before eventually slapping his palms onto his thighs and pulled himself up along with her daughter.

“Let’s go”, he mused as he pressed a kiss to Chloe’s cheek, stubble scratching her skin. A smile sneaked onto her lips despite her proclaimed annoyance as he ushered them out of the apartment and down the stairs.

The place they were at nestled itself between two other cafés, flowers flowing and thriving in clay pots, stumbling across wooden benches. Buttery pancakes melted on her tongue and mixed with the sour flavors of berries and mangoes. Lucifer and Trixie eyed each other’s bowls with suspicion and eventually agreed on switching their plates. Eggs and bacon were demolished in a matter of minutes as were avocado and bread. Banter filled the space between them, light and teasing. Her little rascal tried to sell Lucifer the idea of a puppy or at very least a cat, which he countered with a shudder and an indignant _he would never, ever in his life get a vile creature like a cat_ , texting Eve that apartment hunting would have to wait until next week. Another coffee and orange juice later, Chloe leaned into Lucifer’s side, slowly breathing in his scent.

“A penny for your thoughts?”, he hummed against her, the fabric of his dress shirt brushing against her skin.

“Mh”, she made, nestling into his embrace,” I’m just happy.”

She heard him smile as he sighed, “Me too.”

They had finally finished, Trixie darting off to ask the young woman whether she could pet her golden retriever. Not only hers, but also Lucifer’s gaze stuck on the two of them, narrowed in suspicion as they moved out on the sidewalk, for the dog to jump around them and to lick Trixie’s hands as she squealed in delight. The tension bled out of her partner’s muscles.

“You do like her, admit it”, she chuckled as she put her head into her neck to kiss him.

He answered her lips readily, melting into her as he murmured, “Don’t tell her though.”

They paid – well, he paid and it was also him, who helped her into her jacket, eventually taking her hand in his as they moved outside. Trixie waited for them dutifully in one of the seats, chatting to someone. She cocked her head. Where was the dog?

The warm, big hand slipped out of hers, into in her pocket. The person her daughter was talking to turned. Blood froze in her veins as her jacket felt lighter.

Lucifer stood, weapon drawn and raised at the man’s head, figure taut and still. Precise. His finger lay on the trigger, pressing in deep enough to have clicked off its safety.

“Step away from her!”, never had she heard him like this. Steely, commanding. Dangerous.

_What?,_ she mouthed, petrified in her tracks as the scene that unfolded in front of her eyes and the shocked surroundings, the horrified exclaims bled out of focus. Lucifer faced his mirror image, tense lines and deadly calm features aside from the fire that raged in his eyes. One hand held her Glock, lifted to the man’s head. Not center mass. A shot would be lethal from this distance.

“Beatrice, come here. _Now_ ”, he ordered. Her daughter scurried towards him, gaze wide and terrified as she stumbled. His other hand pushed her behind him as he moved barely discernably, his body shielding hers. Someone screamed for the cops and only then Chloe managed to raise her voice and tell them that _she was the cops!_

Her eyes never left the men in front of her.

“Hello, Sam”, the one said.

“Fuck off, Michael”, Lucifer retorted sharply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this scene a few hours before the trailer came out, so this Michael is not oriented at the show's version of Michael, just saying XD


End file.
